UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT   LOS  ANGELES 


MY  WAYWARD  FARMER; 

OB, 

MY   TRIALS 


JOSIAH,  AMEEICA,  THE  WIDOW  BUMP, 

AND   ETCETERT. 


JOSIAH  ALLAN'S  WIFE, 

(MARIETTA   /HOLLEY,) 

AUTHOR  OP  "MY  OPINIONS  AND  BETSEY  BOBBET'S,"  "SAMANTHA  AT  THE 
CENTENNIAL,"  &c. 


"  Wimmen  is  my  theme,  and  also  Josiah* 


fltatationi  bg  ftrue  W..  Willi 


PUBLISHED    BY    SUBSCRIPTION    ONLY. 


HARTFORD,  CONN.: 

AMERICAN  PUBLISHING  COMPANY. 
1882. 


COPTRTGITT  BY 

MARIETTA   HOLLEY. 

1880. 
(All  rights  reserved.) 


TS 


TO  JOSIAH  AND  AMEEICA. 

WITH  THE  HOPE  THAT  HK  AND  SHE  BOTH  WILL  PUT  THEIR 

BEST  FOOT  FORWARD  AND  WALK  OFF  NOBLY  IN 
CD 

THE  PATH  OF  EIGHT  THIS  BOOK 
CD 

IS  DEDICATED  BY 

cc 

^  THEIR  AFFECTIONATE  FRIEND  AND  WELL  WISHER, 

JOSIAH  ALIENS   WIFK 


259160 


PREFACE. 


I  told  Josiah  that  I  guessed  I  would  write  a  book  about 
several  things — and  wimmen.  Says  I,  "  My  mind  has  been 
dretful  agitated  lately  about  that  certain  lot  of  female  wim- 
men that  are  su£ferin?  more  than  tongue  can  tell.  Why," 
says  1,  "  when  I  think  of  their  agony  and  wrongs,  it  fairly 
makes  the  blood  bile  in  my  veins.  I  love  the  female  sect," 
says  1  firmly,  "  I  am  one  of  'em  myself." 

Says  he  (not  wantin'  me  to  say  a  word  about  it),  "  Let 
'em  write  about  it  themselves." 

Says  I,  "  Josiah  Allen,  do  you  remember  when  you  fell 
down  through  the  barn  and  broke  your  limb,  and  most 
broke  your  other  leg  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  says  he,  "  but  what  of  it  ?" 

Says  I,  "  What  if  I  had  stood  still  in  the  buttery  winder, 
and  hollered  at  you  to  help  yourself,  and  if  you  was  in  pain 
to  get  out  of  it  ?  " 

""Well,"  says  he,  "let  'em  get  some  of  their  own  folks  to 
do  the  writin'  then.  They  haint  none  of  your  folks,  nobody 
won't  expect  nothin'  of  you."  (He  had  reasons  for  not 
wantin'  me  to  tell  all  I  knew  about  certain  things.) 

00 


Vi  PREFACE. 

But  I  says  in  solemn  tones,  "  Do  you  remember  that  time 
you  fell,  Josiah  Allen,  and  I,  bein'  bound  down  by  rheu- 
matizm,  couldn't  do  nothin'  but  blow  the  dinner-horn  for 
help,  and  Sam  Snyder  come  on  the  run,  and  fetched  you  in, 
and  went  after  the  doctor?  " 

"  Throw  that  leg  in  my  face,  if  you  want  to,  but  what  of 
it?" 

Says  I,  "  Them  sufferin'  female  wimmen  are  bound  down 
fur  more  painfully  and  gauling  than  you  wuz.  I  haint  the 
strength  to  lift  'em  up  myself,  but  I  am  a  goin'  to  toot  the 
horn  for  help.  I  am  a  goin'  to  blow  through  it  powerful 
breaths  of  principle  and  warnin';  and  mebby  another  Sam- 
uel, an  uncle  of  mine,  that  I  honor  and  admire,  may  hear 
it,  and  start  off  on  the  run,  and  lift  the  hull  of  them  poor 
female  wimmen  up,  out  of  their  pain  and  humiliatin'  situ- 
ation. He  can  do  it  if  he  is  a  mind  to,"  says  I,  "  as  easy 
as  Sam  Snyder  lifted  you,  and  easier,  for  he  sweat  power- 
ful, and  most  dropped  you  once  or  twice.  And,"  says  I 
firmly,  "  my  mind  is  made  up,  Josiah  Allen,  I  shall  holler 
for  Samuel." 

"Wall,  wall,  holler  away,  for  all  I  care."  He  had 
strong  reasons  for  not  wantin'  me  to  speak  a  word  about 
certain  things,  and  his  tone  was  very  snappish,  snappisher 
than  it  had  been  for  over  seven  weeks.  But  such  trials  do 
great  spirits  no  harm;  no,  it  only  lifts  'em  up  above  their 
own  earthly  peace  and  happiness,  and  sets  'em  more  firmly 
and  stiddily  on  their  loftier  spears. 

I  sithed,  but  1  didn't  contend  another  word  with  him, 
only  jest  that  sithe,  and  then  I  commenced  to  write  my 
book. 


WHAT  THE  BOOK  IS  ABOUT. 


JOSIAH  ALLEN  GOES  ASTRAY. 

A  curious  World  and  a  curious  Coincidence — Realms  of  Mys- 
tery— Josiah  Acts  queer  and  Sits  on  a  Volcano — "  Wait 
till  Evenin'  "—Widow  Bump  and  Her  Nutcakes  are  Dis- 
cussed—How She  Ruined  the  Tailors— A  tedious  Evening 
and  a  Night  of  Woe— Fearful  Words  from  the  sleeping 
Josiah— "The  real  Josiah,  Where  was  He?"— A  mysteri- 
ous Sign — Firm  Resolves — ' '  Pardners  Must  Be  Watched  " 
— Duty  Tackled — Josiah  Stays  at  Home — Samantha's 
powerful  Weapons  victorious,  and  the  Widow  Bump  For- 
gotten   19—51 

KITTY  SMITH  AND  CALEB  COBB. 

A  Visit  from  One  of  the  Smiths  Who  is  Poor  and  Proud- 
Kitty's  Secret,  which  Must  Be  Kept— Her  Would-be  Lover, 
and  how  She  Encouraged  Him— Sketch  of  Kellup  the 
Hearse-driver  and  His  Experiences  with  Hair  dyes — Why 
He  Didn't  Marry — Blamed  by  the  Census-taker — How  Nine 
Girls  Lost  Him— How  He  Killed  Jane  Sofler— The  Death- 
Blow— His  Warning  to  Women— Old  Cobb  and  His  Argu- 
ments—A Sermon  by  Samantha— The  old,  old  Story  Re- 
hearsed—Kitty's Kiss— Fun  for  Kitty 53—91 

JOSIAH  GOES  INTO  BUSINESS. 

Josiah,  Hankering  for  Speculation  and  Neighbors,  Repairs 
the  old  House  and  Rents  It  to  "  a  beautiful  Family"  from 
Zoar— Rumors  that  They  were  Smoked  out— Josiah  Feels 
neat,  and  Loves  to  Neighbor— So  Do  the  Spinkses,  Their 
Cow,  and  Their  Hens— They  Borrow  Feather  Beds,  Pan- 
taloons, and  Pork— Their  Twin  "Takes  to  Him"— He 
Nurses  the  Twin,  Sleeps  with  the  Boys,  Chases  the  Cow, 
and  Takes  " solid  Comfort";  but  "Gets  mad"  at  last,  and 
Meditates  Murder— Summary  Process— Adieu  to  the 

Spinkses 92—130 

(vii) 


WHAT  THE  BOOK  IS  ABOUT. 


MORALIZIN'  AND  EPISODES'. 

Josiah  Longs  for  more  Speculation  and  Comes  Home  "as 
cross  as  a  Bear  " — An  Epoch  of  History — The  new  Head- 
dress and  how  It  Was  Bought — Caleb  Cobb's  Opinions 
thereof,  and  of  extravagant  Members  of  the  Meetin'-house 
— Samautha  Rejoins,  Holding  up  Nature  Wreathed  in 
Beauty  as  a  Pattern,  and  Advocating  Charity  toward  both 
the  Rich  and  the  Poor — Two  Sides  to  Everything — Naming 
the  Baby— Caleb  Changes  the  Subject,  and  Starts  off  to 
Borrow  the  Stun-bolt, 121—153 

JOSIAH  UNDERTAKES  MORE  BUSINESS. 

How  old  Ben  Mandagool  Made  Money — Josiah  Wants  to  do 
likewise,  but  Knowing  Samantha  will  Object,  Feels  cross, 
Looks  mauger,  and  at  last  Says  He  Wants  to  take  Summer 
Boarders — Affection  vs.  Principle — Samantha  Yields — 
Josiah  Engages  Boarders,  and  Figures  out  the  Profits — 
A  Competency  at  last!— "Get  a  Girl"— The  Tip-toe  of 
Expectation — Arrival  of  the  Dankses — Tremendous 
Appetites — Victuals  and  Profits  Disappear — The  Secret 
out— More  Trouble— A  heavy  Bill,  and  how  he  Flatted 
the  Colt  and  Squshed  the  Grin'-stun— How  They  Made 
Ghosts  and  Were  hard  on  the  Tom  Turkey— Night-walk- 
ing and  Historicks— Arrival  of  old  Danks— The  Crisis— 
Josiah's  Wrath — How  He  Scared  Danks,  and  how  Danks 
Scared  him — Samantha  Speaks  of  Matrimony  and  its 
Responsibilities,  and  Consoles  all  Matrimourners — A  Law- 
suit and  its  Result 154-188 

A  VISIT  FROM  MISS  RICKERSON. 

A  windy  Day — The  Simons  of  the*Desert — Good  Advice  to 
Women — Preparing  for  an  Emergency — "Likely  Cree- 
ters"— Now  and  then— Vain  Experiments— The  miscar- 
ried Letter — "She  is  Coming  to-day!" — Arrival  of  Miss 
Rickerson,  she  that  Was  an  Allen— Her  flattering  Tongue 
—How  She  Scared  Caleb  Cobb,  Extolled  the  Spring  Corset, 
and  made  Josiah  Think  he  was  handsome — Our  four  old 
Fathers  and  their  chilly  Blue  Laws—"  Praise  your  Friends 
while  they  Are  Living  " — Samantha  Holds  firm,  but  Cooks 
good  Victuals,  and  Does  well  by  Alzina  Ann 189-204 


WHAT  THE  BOOK  IS  ABOUT. 


CASSANDRA'S  TEA  PARTY. 

History  of  Cassandra  and  her  Misfortune— History  of  her 
bashful  Husband,  Nathan  Spooner— Some  of  his  Adven- 
tures and  Experiences — How  he  Went  hungry  to  Please 
Himself,  and  Feasted  to  Please  Others— How  he  Courted 
Cassandria— Scenes  at  the  Wedding— The  Tea-party,  and 
how  Alziua  Entertained  Nathan— "  The  Image  of  his 
Pa"— At  the  Tea-table,  and  how  Nathan  Said  Grace- 
Untimely  Remarks — Samantha  to  the  Rescue — After  Sup- 
per— Alzina  Walks  with  Cassandra  in  the  Garden — She 
Slanders  Josiah  and  Calls  him  a  "humbly  Creeter" — Sa- 
mantha Appears  on  the  Scene— A  Tableau— Sarcastic  Re- 
marks about  People  who  Take  Liberties  with  their  Friends 
— Alzina's  Confession— The  Walk  homeward 205—229 

THE  LORDS  OF  CREATION. 

Josiah  Is  proud  and  tickled  because  he  Is  a  Man — His  Opinion 
of  "Wimmen  "—What  old  Error  Would  do  if  They  Made 
the  Laws,  and  where  York  State  Would  Be— Samantha 
Points  out  a  Monument  of  Man's  Economy  and  Wisdom 
with  Her  new  Tow-mop — A  Reminiscence — Under  the 
Meetin'-house  Shed— Guilt  Arrayed  in  festal  Robes  to 
Lure  the  Unwary 230—240 

A  EXERTION  FOR  PLEASURE. 

Josiah's  new  "Idee,"  which  Samantha  Discourages — The 
Folly  of  Chasing  Pleasure — Exertion  to  the  Lake  Resolved 
on— Caleb  Sacrifices  his  own  Pleasure  for  the  Welfare  of 
the  Fair  Sect— He  Is  not  Their  Natural  Enemy,  but  Can't 
Marry  Them  all — Preparations — Early  to  Bed — Visitors, 
and  a  Conference  Meetin' — "Galluses  and  Night  Caps" — 
A  Wild  Night— Dreams— Josiah  Wears  T.  Jefferson's 
Uniform— The  Start— Arrival  at  the  Lake— How  Twenty 
Old  Fools  "Sot  Sail  "—Overboard— Sea-sick  and  weak  as 
Cats— On  the  Sand-Beach—Demoralized  Vittles— Wasps 
and  Muskeeters— Histing  an  Umbrell— Josiah  Meets  with 
Two  Accidents,  and  Retires  to  Meditate — A  Search  for 
Josiah — Josiah  Wears  a  Shawl  and  Looks  meachin' — The 
Return  to  the  Main-land,  and  Ride  Homeward  in  the  Rain 
— The  Rheumatiz  Takes  Hold— "Is  this  Pleasure,  Josiah 

Allen?" 241—269 

1* 


WHAT  THE  BOOK  IS  ABOUT. 


A  VISIT  TO  THE  CHILDREN. 

"The  Croup  Is  around"— A  Slave  to  Conscience— Caleb 
Enquires  about  Kitty's  Health,  and  Decides  that  He  May 
Marry  Her— Why  He  Did  not  Write  to  Her,  and  why  He 
Wore  old  Clothes— A  Funeral  at  Log  London— A  Load  of 
Company— The  Start  for  Jonesville— Thomas  J.  and  Mag- 
gie—Providence and  the  Weather— Arrival  at  Whitfield's 
—A  pretty  Sight— Portraits  of  little  Samantha  Joe  and 
Her  Pa  and  Ma— The  Sun  and  Sunflower— The  Kiss  of 
Welcome— A  Talk  with  Tirzah  Ann,  Who  Says  They  Are 
Going  off  for  Rest  and  Pleasure— "  Miss  Skidmore  Is  Go- 
ing, and  all  genteel  People  Go"— Samantha's  Advice, 
"Better  Let  Well  Enough  Alone,"  is  Rejected— Who 
need  a  Change  of  Scene  and  who  do  not— The  Stiff-necked 
Miss  Skidmore — Who  Leads  the  Jonesville  Aristocracy? — 
How  Samantha  Prescribed  for  her,  and  Was  Winked  out 
—"Burdock  Won't  Help  Her"— Proud  Keturah  Allen— 
Samantha's  Ideas  of  People  who  Put  on  Airs  and  Feel 
above  Her 270-302 

TIRZAH  ANN  TO  A  WATERIN'  PLACE. 

How  Tirzah  Ann,  Whitfield,  and  Samantha  Joe,  Went  off  for 
Rest,  and  how  they  Came  back  as  poor  as  3  Snails — Tirzah 's 
Story  of  her  Experiences  and  Wrongs  at  Miss  Skidmore's 
Tavern— How  She  Resolved  at  Starting  to  outdo  the  Skid- 
mores— How  they  Rested  and  Recreated— Midnight  in  the 
fourth  Story  of  a  Waterin'  Place — The  young  Man  who 
Was  Crossed  in  Love,  and  the  young  Maiden  Who 
Owned  a  Melodeon— Wails  of  Woe— How  the  Baby  Was 
Skairt  into  the  Historicks— Bathin',  deep  Water,  Cramps 
and  Drowndin'— Pulled  out  by  the  Hair— Too  much 
Mineral  Water— How  Whitfield  Played  Polo  (a  Game 
Josiah  Wants  to  Play)  and  Was  Hit  by  a  base  Ball— How 
He  Danced  too  much,  and  Got  Disabled — Evenin'  Parties, 
Dancin'and  Flirtin'— The  Worst  of  All;  Tirzah's  dread- 
ful Confession,  Which  must  be  Kept  a  Secret;  "She 
Flirted  with  a  Man!"— About  Her  Trouble  with  Whit- 
field in  consequence,  how  He  Was  jealous,  and  how  a 
Separation  Was  imminent— "  Such  Doins !  "—Piles  of 
Money  Spent,  and  Morals  Totterin'— Bought  Wit  is  the 
best 303—339 


WHAT  THE  BOOK  IS  ABOUT. 


MISS  BOBBET  LETS  THE  CAT  OUT. 

An  old  Acquaintance — Sorrows  of  Her  domestic  Life,  and 
her  great  Consolation — The  Dignity  of  Marriage — Simon's 
horrible  Horrors— A  Present  for  Betsey— A  Summer 
Evening's  Scene — Josiah  and  the  high-tide  Level  of  Love 
—The  Stranger  in  the  Kitchen — How  He  Looked,  and 
What  He  Said— Why  He  didn't  Set  down— He  Calls  for 
some  Cider,  and  Persisting  in  his  Demands,  is  Driven 
from  the  House  at  the  Point  of  Samantha's  Umberel — 
Tobacco,  and  why  People  Use  it — A  Visit  from  Betsey, 
who  Says  the  Intruder  is  Elder  Judas  Wart,  Who  is 
Scaled  to  Widder  Bump,  who  has  been  Forwarded  to 
Utah  by  Express— Betsey  Tells  about  his  disabled  Wives, 
and  about  the  Mormon  Meetin's  in  Jonesville — Shocking 
Disclosures — "Bobbet  Went  to  'em  and  so  did  Josiah 
Allen!  "—Fearful  Words— Samantha  Groans  aloud,  and 
Feels  Wicked— The  Mormon  Wimmen's  Appeal  to  Emily 
(She  that  was  a  Webb)  and  Samantha — A  Woman  to  be 
proud  of — Direlection  in  Duty — Samantha's  firm  Resolve 
to  be  up  and  Doin'— She  Hankers  to  Tackle  Elder  Wart 
and  America,  and  Gets  madder  and  madder 330 — 354 

A  SERENADIN'  EPISODE,  ETC. 

Betsey  Bobbet's  new  Poem,  Entitled  "A  Wife's  Story,"  and 
Published  in  the  Gimlet—  She  Laments  her  Wedded  Life 
and  (although  proud  to  Think  she  Married  Simon)  "to 
be  a  Widder  is  her  Theme"— "Husbands  are  Tryin'," 
and  Simon's  Loss  would  be  Betsey's  Gain — The  pathetic 
Story  of  E.  Wellington  Gansey  who  Came  from  the  Ohio 
to  Visit  his  Childhood's  Home— He  is  Welcomed  by  His 
early  Playmates,  Has  a  good  Time,  and  Resolves  to  Move 
back  to  Jonesville — Josiah  and  Others  Are  so  elated  that 
They  Go  to  Serenade  Him— Samantha,  Left  alone  in  the 
House,  Has  exciting  Experiences — She  Hears  Noises, 
Gets  Skairt,  and  Expects  to  be  Burgled  and  Rapined — 
She  is  finally  Appeared  to  and  Talks  with  the  Ghost — 
Poor  Tamer  Mooney  and  Her  horrible  Words— "  Bloody 
Indians,  Yells,  and  Tomyhawks!" — Rousting  the  Neigh- 
bors— Reappearance  of  Josiah — What  Hit  Him — What 
Hit  Old  Bobbet— What  Hit  the  Editor  of  the  Augur— 
What  Hit  Old  Gansey,  etc.— Eliab  leaves  His  Childhood's 
Home,  and  Starts  for  the  Ohio  by  the  first  Train.... 355— 396 


WHAT  THE  BOOK  IS  ABOUT. 


JUDAS  WART  AND  SUFFERIN'  WOMEN. 

.Tosiah  has  a  Stitch,  Comes  in  on  a  Broom-handle,  and  is  Made 
comfortable — The  Elder  Wart  also  Comes  in,  Seems 
dreadful  Tickled,  and  Makes  some  complimentary  Re- 
marks— Josiah  Overhears  them,  and  Forgets  his  "Stitch" 
— Samantha  Rescues  the  Elder,  who,  in  retaliation, 
Twits  Josiah  about  "  a  certain  Widder"  to  whom  He 
Had  Been  partial — Josiah  Denies  the  Imputation  and 
Gets  luny — His  strange  Hallucination,  and  Memories  of 
his  Childhood— Samantha,  being  again  "Approached" 
by  the  Elder,  Gets  mad  and  Threatens  him  with  the  Tea- 
kettle—He Wants  to  "Argue,"  and  Samantha  Tackles 
Him— What  Mormons  Worship — Who  they  Rob  and 
Murder— What  they  Covet,  and  Get,  too— The  Wretched- 
ness of  Mormon  Wimmen,  and  especially  of  Wife  No.  1 
—Ruined  Morals— Beelzebub's  own  Timber— A  Voice 
from  Old  Babylon  and  the  Turkey— No  Acquaintance 
with  Thalos  and  Mr.  Plato— The  Elder  Gets  "Sassy," 
and  Samantha  Declares  She  Will  Appeal  to  her  Uncle 
Samuel,  who,  though  a  little  distracted  and  run  down  by 
his  domestic  Troubles,  Can  and  Will  Stop  Mormonism 
—The  Elder's  parting  Shot,  which  Josiah  Resents  by  an 
Attack  in  the  Rear—"  A  skairter  Man  never  Lived".  .397 — 469 

A  CRISIS  WITH  KELLUP. 

Kitty  Departs,  and  Kellup  Calls  to  See  her  5  Minutes  after- 
ward— He  is  greatly  Depressed — "  Wimmen  is  what's  the 
Matter  " — He  is  sorry  for  Kitty,  and  says  he  will  Write  to 
her — On  Reflection  he  Authorizes  Samantha  to  tell  her  he 
Will  Marry  her  whether  or  no,  even  if  She  is  poor — 
Remcmbring  Sofier's  Fate,  he  "Dassent"  do  an  Errand 
at  Marier's  House — A  Visit  from  Cassandra  and  her 
young  Babe — How  Nathan  Treated  his  Heir — A  mysteri- 
ous Decree — Thrillin'  News — Kitty  Smith  Disappears  from 
the  Scene— So  Docs  Miss  Smith  the  Elder— So  Does  Wart 
(the  Elder) — So  Does  Kellup  and  the  Hearse — A  pastoral 
Scene — Samantha,  Reclining  by  the  Brook-side,  Listens 
to  a  Bird  as  he  Sings  and  Swings;  Watches  the  Sky  and 
Golden-rod  Reflected  in  the  Stream;  Meditates  on  the  Old 
and  the  New,  the  Steadfast  and  the  Changing;  and 
Thinks  how  swift  the  Water  is  a  Runnin'  toward  the 
.Sea 470—490 


THE  PICTURES 

MR.     WILLIAMS    HAS    MADE. 

PAGE 

1.  FRONTISPIECE (FULL  PAGE) 

2.  "  THE  TEDIOUS  EVENING  WANED  AWAY  "  —  (FULL  PAGE) 18 

3.  PORTRAIT  OP  THE  WIDDEB  BUMP , 24 

4.  AN  IDEAL  FAMILY (FULL  PAGE) 28 

5.  MEASURED  BY  THE  WIDDEB 32 

6.  JOSIAU  DREAMING 36 

7.  THOSE  "  AWFUL  WORDS  " (FULL  PAGE) 40 

8.  A  SOLEMN  WARNING 42 

9.  JOSIAII'S  DISAPPOINTMENT 47 

10.  KITTY  SMITH (FULL  PAGE) 54 

11.  KELLUP 59 

12.  THE  WOMAN  QUESTION 63 

13.  THE  DESERTED 65 

14.  PAYING  HER  WAY 67 

15.  How  JANE  WAS  ROPED  IN (FULL  PAGE) 69 

16.  THE  DEATH-BLOW 71 

17.  A  JUDGMENT  SEAT 74 

18.  SWINGIN'  OUT 83 

19.  ACOB(B)  WITHOUT  CORN (FULL  PAGE) 86 

20.  KITTY'S  Kiss 87 

21.  JOSIAU  FEELS  NEAT 93 

22.  ARRIVAL  or  THE  SPINKSES 97 

23.  YOKED  BUT  NOT  MATED (FULLPAGE) 100 

24.  Josi AH  NEIGHBORS 102 

25.  BORROWIN'  JOSIAH 106 

26.  SPINKS'ES  Cow— A  NIGHT  SCENE (FULL  PAGE) 108 

27.  OUR  HEN-DAIRY 110 

28.  JOSIAH'S  Vow 117 

29.  DANGER  AHEAD 118 

30.  THE  NEW  HEAD-DRESS 121 

31.  APPLE  BLOSSOMS 123 

32.  HOW  IT  MIGHT  HAVE  BEEN 124 

33.  HABDATIT 126 

(Xiii) 


xiv  PICTURES. 


84.  NATURE'S  OCEAN  BOUDOIR (FULLPAGE) 129 

35.  NATURE'S  WORK 131 

36.  BABY  PILLEB  CASE 135 

37.  FEELING  CHRISTIAN 137 

38.  " BLESSINGS  ON  THEM  ALL" (FULLPAGE) 141 

39.  A  HEAVENLY  MESSENGER 143 

40.  THE  WREATHED  SPEAR 145 

41.  A  GUIDING  HAND 150 

42.  "WHAT'S  THE  MATTER,  JOSIAH?" 154 

43.  A  POETICAL  SIMELY (FULL  PACK) 158 

44.  JOSIAH'S  IDEE 161 

45.  EARLY  BIRDS 162 

46.  OUR  BOARDERS, (FULLPAGE) 165 

47.  A  SURPRISED  COLT 170 

48.  EXERCISING  THE  GOBBLER 172 

49.  A  HEAVY  BILL (FULL  PAGE) 176 

50.  "  SHUT  THAT  DOOR  " 198 

51.  ARRIVAL  OF  Miss  RICKERSON 196 

52.  KELLUP'S  CONUNDRUM 202 

53.  NATHAN  SPOONEB 206 

54.  NATHAN  SNICKERS 207 

55.  PUDDING  AND  MILK 209 

56.  THE  FAMILY  NIGHT-CAP (FULL  PAGE) 211 

57.  "NATHAN  SOT  DOWN" 214 

58.  CASSANDRA'S  MISFORTUNE (FULLPAGE) 217 

59.  BAD  FOB  NATHAN 222 

60.  FACE  TO  FACE 226 

61.  AMONUMENT  OF  MEN'S  ECONOMY 233 

62.  ON  THE  RAGGED  EDGE 236 

63.  UNDER  THE  MEETING-HOUSE  SHED (FULLPAGE) 238 

64.  ROUTED  OUT 246 

65.  "MuBDER  WILL  OUT" 247 

66.  SAMANTHA'S  DREAM (FULL  PAGE) 249 

67.  FACING  TROUBLE (FULLPAGE) 253 

68.  BOUND  FOR  THE  ISLAND 255 

69.  ON  THE  BEACH 257 

70.  DISCOURAGED  EXCURSIONIST (FULL  PAG*) 2fiO 

71.  A  DESPERATE  SITUATION 264 

72.  HOMEWARD  BOUND (FULL  PAGE) 267 

73.  THE  END  OF  THE  EXERTION 269 

74.  MOVING  JOSIAH 271 

75.  DRESSED  FOR  THE  OCCASION ,        ...274 


PICTURES.  xv 


76.  A  ROADSIDE  VISIT (FULL  PAGE) 279 

77.  A  HAPPY  HOME 282 

78.  LITTLE  SAMANTHA  JOE 283 

79.  JOSIAII  STILL 286 

80.  THE  ANNUAL  TURNOUT (FULL  PAGE) 289 

81.  MRS.  SKIDMORE  292 

82.  KETURAH  ALLKN 295 

83.  VIEW  OP  JONBSVILLE (FULL  PAGE) 300 

84.  "A  PITIFUL  SIGHT" (FULL  PAGE) 306 

85   KEEPIH'  UP  HER  END 309 

86.  MIDNIGHT  AT  A  WATERING-PLACE (FULL  PAGE) 812 

87.  WAIL  OF  WOE 314 

88.  QUAVERS  AND  SHAKES 816 

89.  COIN'  THEIR  LEVEL  BEST 818 

90.  How  JOSIAH  WOULD  PLAT  POLO (FULL  PAGE) 320 

91.  THE  RESCUE 323 

92.  "IT  TASTED  AWFULLY" 324 

93.  A  SAD  SCENE 325 

94.  TIRZAH  ANN  FLIRTS  WITH  A  MAN (FULL  PAGE) 327 

95.  A  PRESENT  FOR  BETSEY 331 

96.  FRIENDLY  FEELIN'S &32 

97.  MEETING  THE  ELDER 335 

98.  A  THREATNIN'  ATTITUDE 341 

99.  Miss  BOBBET  TELLS  ABOUT  JOSIAH (FULL  PAGE) 344 

100.  "A  RARITY  TO  'EM" 348 

101.  BOBBET  AND  JOSIAH  TALKIN' 352 

"102.  OLD  TOIL'S  BRIDE (FULL  PAGE) 357 

103.  THE  WILD-EYED  WOMAN 363 

104.  No  ANSWER 367 

105.  E.  WELLINGTON  GANSEY 370 

106.  BURGLERS 379 

107.  THE  GHOST 880 

108.  TAMER  MOONEY 383 

109.  THE  SERENADING  PARTY 384 

110.  TUB  BRUISED  JOSIAH 387 

111.  THE  SERENADE (FULL  PAGE) 390 

112.  "  MANDANA  !  MANDANA  ! " 895 

113.  A  STITCH  IN  THE  BACK (FULL  PAGE) 398 

114.  ELDER  JUDAS  WART 400 

115.  RESCUING  THE  ELDER 401 

116.  HOT  WATER 407 

117.  "LESS  ARGUE" , (FULL  PAOE) 409 


xvi  PICTURES. 


118.  MOUNTAIN  MEADOWS 417 

119.  AN  ANSEL  OF  PEACE 430 

120.  MB.  AND  MRS.  PLATO 436 

121.  THE  HINDOO  MOTHEE 441 

122.  A  FALLEN  ANOEL  443 

123.  Tin  OLD  MAN 450 

124.  OUR  DISTRACTED  UNCLE 453 

125.  THE  CALL  TO  DUTY (FULL  PAOB) 455 

126.  HELPS  FOR  THE  HEATHEN 457 

127.  JOSIAH  ENDS  TUB  ARGUMENT (FULL  PAGE) 4(U 

128.  DEPARTURE  OF  THE  ELDER 467 

129.  TAKIN'  A  REEF 475 

130.  MARIER  BURPEY 480 

131.  "Do  You  WANT  A  PAIR  OF  BOOTS?" 484 

132.  THRILLING  NEWS (FULL  PAGB) 486 


THE   TEDIOUS  EVENING   WANED    AWAY." 


JOSIAH  ALLEN  GETS  ASTRAY. 

I  HAVE  said,  and  said  it  calmly,  that  this  is  the 
curiousest  world  I  ever  see  in  my  life.  And  I 
shan't  take  it  back.  1  hain't  one  to  whiffle  round  and 
dispute  myself.  I  made  the  statement  cool  and  firm, 
and  shall  stand  by  it.  And  truly  if  I  never  had  said 
or  thought  anything  of  the  kind,  what  I  see  with  my 
own  eyes  last  Friday  night,  and  heard  with  my  own 
ear  before  mornin'  dawned,  would  have  convinced  me 
that  I  was  in  the  right  on't. 

It's  happenin'  on  a  Friday,  too,  was  strange  as 
anything  could  be  strange.  It  was  on  Friday  that 
Mr.  Columbus  discovered  the  New  World,  and  it  was 
on  a  Friday  (though  some  time  after)  that  I  discov- 
ered new  regions  in  my  pardner's  mind.  Realms  of 
mystery,  full  of  strange  inhabitents.  That  Christo- 
pher and  me  should  both  make  such  startlen  and 
momentious  discoveries  on  the  same  day  of  the  week 
is  a  coincidence  curious  enough  to  scare  anybody  most 
to  death. 

(19) 


A  HOLLER  WORLD. 


Yes,  this  world  is  a  curious  place,  very,  and  holler, 
holler  as  a  drum.  Lots  of  times  the  ground  seems  to 
lay  smooth  and  serene  under  your  rockin'  chair,  when 
all  the  time  a  earthquake  may  be  on  the  very  p'int  of 
busten'  it  open  and  swollerin'  you  up — chair  and  all. 
And  your  Josiah  may  be  a-settin'  right  on  top  of  a 
volcano,  unbeknown  to  you.  But  I  am  wanderin'  off 
into  fields  of  poesy,  and  to  resoom  and  proceed. 

It  was  along  the  latter  part  of  winter,  pretty  nigh 
spring,  when  my  companion  Josiah  seemed  to  kinder 
get  into  the  habit  of  going  to  Jonesville  eveniu's. 
When  I  would .  beset  him  to  go  and  get  necessaries, 
groceries,  and  etcetery,  he  would  say : 

"  Wall,  1  guess  I'll  wait  till  evenin',  and  then  I'll 
hitch  up  and  go." 

He'd  done  it  a  number  of  times  before  I  noticed  it 
in  particular,  bein'  took  up  alterin'  over  my  brown 
alpacka,  and  bein'  short  on't  for  pieces  and  strained 
in  my  mind  whether  I  would  get  out  new  backs  with- 
out piecin'  'cm  acrost  the  shoulder-blades.  I  don't 
get  much  time  to  sew,  bein'  held  back  by  housework 
and  rheumatiz,  and  the  job  had  hung  on,  and  wore  on 
me  powerfully,  body  and  mind.  Wall,  every  day  or 
two  he  would  make  that  curious  remark,  without  my 
noticin'  of  it  (as  it  were): 

"  Wait  till  evenin',  and  I'll  hitch  up  and  go." 

And  I  wouldn't  say  nothin',  and  he'd  go,  and 
wouldn't  get  back  till  nine  o'clock  or  after.  Wall,  as 
time  went  on,  and  my  mind  grew  easier  about  ray 


A  CURIOUS  HABIT.  21 

dress  (I  concluded  to  take  the  overskirt  and  make 
new  backs  and  sleeves,  and  I  got  it  cut  foam  in',  could 
have  cut  it  profuse  and  lavish,  if  it  had  been  my  way), 
and  my  mind  bein'  onstrained,  and  noticin'  tilings 
more,  I  thought  it  looked  sort  o'  peculier  that  Josiah 
should  be  so  uncommon  willin'  to  go  to  the  store  eve- 
nin's  for  necessaries  and  things,  when  he  had  always 
been  such  a  case  to  stay  to  home  nights  ;  couldn't  get 
him  out  for  the  Doctor  hardly.  Collery  morbeus 
couldn't  hardly  start  him,  nor  billerous  colic. 

It  was  on  that  Friday  night  after  Josiah  had  started, 
that  I,  havin'  finished  my  dress,  sot  there  a  knittin', 
and  my  mind  bein'  sot  free,  it  got  to  thinkin'  over 
things.  Thinkin'  how  I  told  him  that  mornin'  that 
the  tea  was  a-runnin'  out,  and  I  should  have  to  have 
some  that  day,  and  he  says : 

"  Wall,  after  supper  I'll  hitch  up  and  go." 

And  I  says  to  him  sort  o'  mechanically  (for  my 
mind  was  almost  completely  full  of  alpacka  and  waist 
patterns — I  had  concluded  late  the  night  before  to 
take  the  overskirt) : 

"What  has  come  over  you,  Josiah  Allen?  I 
couldn't  never  use  to  get  you  out  nights  at  all." 

He  didn't  explain,  nor  notliin',  but  says  agin,  in 
that  same  sort  of  a  curious  way,  but  firm  : 

"  You  make  the  tea  last  through  the  day,  Samantha, 
and  to-night  I'll  hitch  up  and  go." 

And  then  he  beset  me  to  have  a  chicken  pie  for 
dinner,  and  I,  bein'  in  such  a  hurry  with  my  sewin', 


A  DOUBTFUL  REVELATION. 


didn't  feel  like  makin'  the  effort,  and  he  told  me  I 
must  make  it,  for  he  had  had  a  revelation  that  I 
should. 

Says  I,  "  a  revelation  from  who  ?" 

And  he  says,  "  From  the  Lord." 

And  I  says,  "  I  guess  not." 

But  he  stuck  to  it  that  he  had.  And  I  finally  told 
him,  "  that  if  it  was  from  the  Lord  he  would  probable 
get  it,  and  if  it  wuzn't,  if  it  wuz  as  I  thought,  a  revela- 
tion from  his  stomach  and  appetite,  he  most  probable 
wouldn't  get  it."  And  I  kep'  on  with  my  sewin'.  I 
laid  out  to  get  a  good,  wholesome  dinner,  and  did. 
But  I  couldn't  fuss  to  make  that  pie,  in  my  hurry. 
His  revelation  didn't  amount  to  much.  But  it  was 
curious  his  talkin'  so — awful  curious. 

I  got  to  thinkin*  it  all  over  agin  as  I  sot  there 
a-knittin',  and  I  felt  strange.  But  little,  little  did  I 
think  what  was  goin'  on  under  my  rockin'-chair,  unbe- 
known to  me. 

About  half  past  7  Josiah  Allen  got  home.  I  asked 
him  what  made  him  come  so  soon,  and  he  said  sun- 
thin',  as  he  took  off  his  overcoat,  about  there  not  bein' 
no  meetin'  that  night,  and  sunthin'  about  the  Elder 
bein'  most  sick.  And  I  s" posed  he  meant  conference 
meetin',  and  I  s'posed  he  meant  Elder  Bamber.  But 
oh !  if  I  had  only  known  who  that  Elder  was,  and 
what  them  meetin's  was,  if  I  had  only  known  the 
slippery  height  and  hollerness  of  the  volcano  Josiah 
Allen  was  a-sittin'  upon,  unbeknown  to  me !  But  I 


THE  WIDDER'S  NUTCAKES.         23 

didn't  know  nothin'  about  it,  and  so  I  sot  there,  calm 
and  serene  in  my  frame,  for  my  mind  bein'  onhar- 
nessed,  as  I  may  say,  speakin'  in  a  poeticule  way,  from 
the  cares  it  had  been  a-carryin',  I  felt  first  rate.  And 
so  I  sot  there  a-knittin',  and  Josiah  sot  by  the  stove 
seemin'ly  a-meditatin'.  I  thought  likely  as  not,  he 
was  a-thinkin'  on  religious  subjects,  and  I  wouldn't 
have  interupted  him  for  the  world.  But  pretty  soon 
he  spoke  out  sort  'o  dreamily,  and  says  he  : 

"  How  old  should  you  take  the  Widder  Bump  to  be, 
Samantha  ?  " 

"  Oh,  about  my  age,  or  a  little  older,  probable," 
says  I.  "  What  makes  you  ask  ? " 

"  Oh,  nothin',"  says  lie,  and  lie  sort  o'  went  to  whis- 
tlin',  and  I  went  on  with  my  knittin'.  But  anon,  or 
mebby  a  little  before  anon,  lie  spoke  out  agin,  and 
says  he : 

"  The  Widder  Bump  is  good  lookin'  for  a  widder, 
hain't  she  ?  And  a  crackin'  good  cook.  Sometimes," 
says  he  in  a  pensive  way,  "  sometimes  I  have  almost 
thought  she  went  ahead  of  you  on  nutcakes." 

Her  nutcakes  was  pretty  fair  ones,  and  midelin' 
good  shaped,  and  I  wuzn't  goin'  to  deny  it,  and  so  I 
says: 

"  What  of  it,  Josiah  ?     What  if  she  duz  ?  " 

There  hain't  a  envious  hair  in  my  head  (nor  many 
gray  ones  for  a  woman  of  my  age,  though  I  say  it  that 
shouldn't).  I  hain't  the  woman  to  run  down  another 
woman's  nutcakes.  My  principles  are  like  brass,  as 


24 


PURSUING  THE  SUBJECT. 


has  been  often  remarked.  If  a  woman  can  make 
lighter  nutcakes  than  I  cari  (which,  give  me  good 
flour  and  plenty  of  sour  cream,  and  eggs,  and  other 
ingregicncies,  I  shall  never  believe  they  can) — why, 
if  they  can,  runnin'  down  their  nutcakes  don't  make 
mine  any  higher  up.  There  is  where  folks  make  a 
mistake — they  think  that  runnin'  other  folks  down 
lifts  them  higher  up  ;  but  it  don't,  not  a  inch. 

So  I  kep'  on 
knittin',  cool 
as  the  heel  of 
the  sock  I  was 
knittin'  on. 
Pretty  soon 
Josiah  broke 
out  agin : 

"  The  Wid- 
d  c  r  Bump 
hain't  got  no 
relations,  lias 
she,  S  am  a  ii- 
th  a ,  that 
would  be  a 
kinder  hangin'  on,  and  livin'  on  her,  if  she  should 
take  it  into  her  head  to  marry  agin  ?  " 

"  I  guess  not,"  says  I.     "  But  what  makes  you  ask, 
Josiah  ? " 

"Oh,  nothin',  nothin'  in  the  world.     I  hadn't  no 
reason  in  askin'  it,  not  a  single  reason.     1  said  it, 


TUB  WIDDER  TCUMP. 


MARIN'  HIMSELF  AGREEABLE.  25 

Samantha,"  says  he,  speakin'  in  a  sort  of  a  excited, 
foolish  way,  "  I  said  it  jest  to  make  talk." 

And  agin  he  went  to  whistlin',  strange  and  curious 
whistles  as  I  ever  heard,  and  haulin'  a  shingle  out  of 
the  wood-box,  he  went  to  whittlin'  of  it  into  as  strange 
shapes  as  1  ever  see  in  my  life.  I  looked  at  him  pretty 
keen  over  my  specks,  for  I  thought  things  was  goin' 
on  kinder  curious.  But  I  only  says  in  a  sort  of  a  dry 
tone : 

"  1  am  glad  you  can  think  of  sunthin'  to  say,  Josiah* 
if  it  hain't  nothin'  but  widder.  Howsumever,"  says  I, 
speakin'  in  a  encoura"gin'  tone,  seein'  how  dretful 
meachin'  he  looked,  and  thinkin  mebby  I  had  been  too 
hard  on  him,  "  Widder  is  better  than  no  subject  at  all, 
Josiah,  though  I  don't  call  it  a  soarin'  one.  But  1 
can't  see,"  says  I,  lookin'  at  him  uncommon  keen  over 
my  specks,  "  I  can't  see  why  you  foller  it  up  so  awful 
close  to-night.  I  can't  see  why  the  Widder  Bump  is 
a-running'  through  your  mind  to-night,  Josiah  Allen." 

"Oh!  she  hain't!  she  hain't!"  says  he,  speakin'  up 
quick,  but  with  that  dretful  meachin'  and  sheepish 
look  to  him. 

"  I  am  a  talkin'  about  her,  Samantha,  jest  to  pass 
away  time,  jest  to  make  myself  agreeable  to  you." 

"  Wall,"  says  I,  in  a  dryer  tone  than  I  had  hitherto 
used,  "  don't  exert  yourself  too  hard,  Josiah,  to  make 
yourself  agreeable.  You  may  strain  your  mind  beyond 
its  strength.  I  can  stand  it  if  you  don't  say  nothin' 
more  about  the  Widder  Bump.  And  time,"  says  I,  "I 


PASSIN'  AWAY  TIME. 


guess  time  will  pass  away  quick  enough  without  your 
takin'  such  pains  to  hurry  it  along." 

And  then  I  launched  out  nobly  on  that  solemn 
theme.  About  time,  the  greatest  of  gifts;  how  it 
come  to  us  God-given;  how  we  ort  to  use  it;  how  we 
held  our  arms  out  blindly,  and  could  feel  the  priceless 
treasure  laid  in  'em,  close  to  our  hearts,  unbeknown  to 
us;  and  how  all  beyond  'em  was  like  reachin'  em  out 
into  the  darkness,  into  a  awful  lonesomeness  and 
emptiness  ;  how  the  hour  of  what  we  called  time  was 
the  only  thing  on  God's  earth  that  we  could  grip  holt 
of;  how  it  was  every  mite  of  a 'stand  in  place  we  could 
lift  the  ladder  on  for  our  hopes  and  our  ycarnin's,  our 
immortal  dreams  to  mount  heavenward;  how  this 
place,  the  Present,  was  all  the  spot  we  could  stand  on, 
to  reach  out  our  arms  toward  God,  and  eternal  safety, 
and  no  knowin'  how  soon  that  would  sink  under  us, 
drop  down  under  our  feet,  and  let  us  down  into  the 
realm  of  Shadows, the  Mysterious,  the  Beyond.  "And 
still,"  says  I,  "  how  recklessly  this  priceless  treasure 
is  held  by  some ;  how  folks  talk  about  its  bcin'  too 
long,  and  try  to  get  ways  to  make  it  go  quicker,  and 
some,"  says  I,  dreamily,  "  some  try  to  make  it  pass  off 
quicker  by  talkin'  about  widders." 

I  don't  think  I  had  been  more  eloquent  in  over  live 
weeks,  than  I  was  in  talkin'  upon  that  theme.  I  was 
very  eloquent  and  lengthy,  probable  from  i  to  i  an 
hour.  I  talked  beautiful  on  it.  A  minister  would 
have  said  so  if  he  had  heard  me,  and  he  would  have 


AN  IDEAL  FAMILY. 


A  BANNER  IN  THE  SKV.  29 

been  likely  to  thought  highly  of  it,  and  my  gestures, 
for  the  waves  that  I  waved  outwards  with  my  right 
hand  was  impressive,  and  very  graceful.  I  held  the 
sock  in  my  right  hand,  as  J  waved  it  out ;  it  was  a 
good  color,  and  it  floated  out  some  like  a  banner.  I 
felt  well,  and  acted  well,  and  I  knew  it.  And  I  thought 
at  the  time  that  Josiah  knew  it,  and  was  proud  of  me, 
and  felt  more  affectionate  to  me  than  his  common 
run  of  feelin's  towards  me  wuz,  for  most  the  minute  I 
got  through  episodin',  he  broke  out,  and  says  he: 

"Don't  you  think  you  arc  a  workin'  too  hard, 
Samantha  ?  Don't  you  think  it  would  be  easier  for 
you  if  you  had  some  woman  here  a  livin'  to  help  you? 
And,"  says  he,  dreamily,  "  she  might  be  a  fryin'  the 
nutcakes  while  you  was  a  brilin'  the  beef-steak,  and 
cookin'  other  provisions." 

I  was  exceedingly  affected  by  his  tender  feelin's 
towards  me,  (as  I  supposed,)  and  says  I,  in  affectionate 
axents: 

"No,  I  can  get  along,  Josiah." 

But  oh !  if  I  had  known !  If  I  had  known  what 
thoughts  was  a  ninnin'  through  his  mind,  how  differ- 
ent my  axent  would  have  been.  My  axent  would  have 
been  so  cold  it  would  have  froze  him  stiffer'n  a  mush- 
rat,  jest  one  axent  would,  it  would  have  had  that 
deadly  icyness  to  it.  Blind  bein'  that  I  was,  a  speakin' 
tender  and  soft  to  him,  and  knittin'  on  his  heel,  (a 
double  stitch,  too,  to  make  it  firmer,)  and  he  a  settin' 
of  his  own  accord  up  on  top  of  that  volcano  that  was 
2 


80  MEN'S  CURIOUS  WAYS. 

ready  to  bust  right  out,  and  burn  up  all  my  happiness, 
and  swaller  down  and  engulf  my  Josiah.  What  fecl- 
in's  I  felt  as  I  thought  it  all  over  afterwards. 

Wall,  I  sot  there  a  knittin'  on  his  heel,  and  occa- 
sionally makin'  eloquent  and  flowery  speeches,  and  he, 
from  time  to  time,  a  speakin  out  sudden  and  sort  o' 
promiscous,  a  praisin'  up  the  Widder  Bump,  and  sort 
o'  mixin'  her  up  with  religion,  and  seals,  arid  revela- 
tions, and  things,  and  anon,  when  I  would  take  him  to 
do  about  it,  a  whistlin',  and  whittlin'  shingles  into 
curious  and  foolish  shapes,  curiouser  than  I  ever  re- 
membered to  see  him  whittle,  and  whistlin'  more  sort 
o'  vacant  and  excentrick  whistles  than  1  ever  remem- 
bered hearin'  him  whistle — dretful  loud  whistles,  some 
of  'em,  and  then  dwindlin'  down  sudden  and  unex- 
pected into  low  and  dwindlin'  ones.  And  I  a  won- 
derin'  at  it,  and  thinkin'  things  was  a  goin'  on  strange 
and  curious.  And  then  anon,  or  about  that  time,  or 
anyway,  as  soon  as  I  would  have  time  to  meditate  on 
men's  curious  and  foolish  demeanors  at  times — why  I 
would  give  up  that  it  was  one  of  their  ways,  and  he 
would  get  over  it,  knowin'  that  they  mostly  did  get 
over  'em. 

And  so  the  long,  tejus  evenin'  waned  away.  And 
Josiah  locked  the  doors,  and  wound  up  the  clock,  and 
greased  his  boots,  and  went  to  bed.  But  oh !  little  dtd 
I  know  all  the  while  he  was  a  windin'  and  a  greasin', 
and  I  a  knittin',  and  the  carpet  seemed  to  lay  smooth 
and  straight  under  us,  all  the  time  a  earthquake  was  a 


AN  UNEXPECTED  EARTHQUAKE.  31 

rumblin',  and,  to  use  a  poetical  and  figurative  expres- 
sion, a  snortin'  down  under  us,  unbeknown  to  me. 

Wall,  that  night  my  pardner,  Josiah  Allen,  at  two 
different  times,  once  about  midnight,  and  once  about 
the  time  the  roosters  crowed — at  two  separate  times, 
which  I  am  ready  to  testify  and  make  oath  to,  lie  spoke 
right  out  in  his  sleep,  and  says : 

"Widder  Bump!" 

And  that  is  the  livin'  truth,  and  I  have  always  been 
called  truthful,  and  don't  expect  to  take  up  lyin'  now, 
at  my  age.  How  many  more  times  he  said  it,  while  I 
was  a  sleepin'  peacefully  by  his  side,  I  can't  say.  But 
them  two  times  I  heard  and  counted,  and  my  feelin's 
as  I  lay  there  and  heard  them  awful  words  can't  never 
be  told  nor  sung;  no,  a  tune  can't  be  made  curious 
enough  to  sing  'em  in. 

Then  I  gin  up,  fully  gin  up,  that  sunthin'  was 
wrong.  That  a  great  mystery  was  ban  gin'  over  my 
Josiah  and  the  widder,  or  to  one  of  'em,  or  to  some- 
body, or  to  sunthin'. 

Oh  the  feelin's  that  I  felt,  as  I  lay  there  and  heard 
them  words.  I  wuzn't  jealous  that  I  will  contend  for; 
but  what  words  them  was  for  a  affectionate,  lovin' 
pardner  to  hear  from  the  lips  of  a  sleepin'  Josiah. 

"  Widder  Bump !  " 

I  was  not  jealous.  I  would  scorn  to  be.  There 
wuzn't  a  jealous  hair  in  my  foretop,  and  I  knew  it,  or 
my  back  hair.  And  I  knew  I  was  better  lookin'  than 
the  widder,  though  she  was  wholesome  lookin'. 


32 


CLOTHES  MADE  TO  ORDER. 


She  was  the  widder  of  Sampson  Bump ;  he  died  with 
collery  morbeus,  and  she  moved  to  Jonesville  and  set 
up  a  tailoress  shop,  and  had  been  called  likely.  Though 
the  wimmen  of  Jonesville  had  gi'n  in  that  their  hus- 
bands never  had  so  many  clothes  made  in  the  same 

length  of 
time,  and  a 
good  many  of 
the  men  had 
got  scolded 
considerable 
by  their  wives 
for  runnin' 
through  with 
their  proper- 
ty, and  goin' 
so  deep  into 
their  store- 
clothes.  But 
the  men  had 
all  gi'n  in  that 
ready-made 
clothes  ripped 

so  it  was  a  perfect  moth  to  buy  'em,  and  it  was  fur 
cheaper  to  hire  'em  made  by  hand.  And  Josiah  had 
started  up  about  the  middle  of  winter,  and  wanted  to 
have  her  measure  him  for  a  vest,  and  get  a  new  over- 
coat made.  Josiah  Allen  didn't  need  no  vest,  and  I 
put  my  foot  right  down  on  it.  But  I  had  her  come 


MEASURED  BY  THE  WTDDEK. 


NO  CAMEL.  S3 


to  the  house  and  make  the  overcoat,  and  while  she  was 
there  I  run  a  splinter  under  my  finger-nail,  and  was 
disabled,  and  I  kep'  her  a  week  to  do  housework. 

As  I  say,  she  had  always  been  called  likely,  though 
she  seemed  to  be  sort  o'  shaky  and  tottlin'  in  her  reli- 
gion. She  had  been  most  everything  sense  she  come 
to  Jonesville,  not  quite  2  years.  She  jined  the  Metho- 
dists first,  then  the  Tiscopals,  then  the  Univcrsalers, 
and  then  the  Camelites.  And  I  s'posed  at  this  present 
time  she  was  a  Camel.  I  had  hearn'  talk  that  she  was 
a  leanin'  towards  the  Mormons,  but  I  had  always  made 
a  practice  of  disputiu'  of  it,  knowin'  how  hard  it  was 
for  good  lookin'  wimmen  to  get  along  without  hem' 
slandered  by  other  wimmen.  I  always  dispised  such 
littleness,  and  so  I  had  come  out  openly  and  stood  up 
for  her,  and  called  her  a  Camel.  But  I  learnt  a  lesson 
in  this  very  affair.  1  learnt  to  be  more  mejum  than  I 
had  been,  and  1  thought  1  knew  every  crook  and  turn 
in  mejumness,  I  had  always  been  such  a  master  hand 
for  it.  But  in  dispisin'  littleness  and  jealousy  in  other 
wimmen,  and  tryin'  to  rise  above  it,  I  had  riz  too  fur. 
She  wuzn't  a  Camel!  And  while  the  other  wimmen 
had  been  spiteful  and  envious,  I  had  been  a  lyin' — 
though  entirely  unbeknown  to  me,  and  I  don't  s'posc 
1  shall  ever  be  hurt  for  it. 

As  I  have  said,  and  proved,  I  wuzn't  jealous,  but  oh, 
what  groans  1  groaned,  as  I  heard  for  the  second  time 
them  fearful  words  from  the  lips  of  my  pardner — 
"  Widder  Bump !  " 


34  HEAVY  GROANS. 


It  was  awful  dark  in  the  room,  perfectly  dark,  but 
darker  fur  in  the  inside  of  my  mind,  and  gloomier. 
How  I  did  groan,  and  turn  over  agin  and  groan.  And 
then  I'd  try  to  look  on  the  bright  side  of  things,  right 
there  in  the  dark.  Thinkscs  I,  I  know  I  am  better 
lookin'  than  she  is,  and  would  be  called  so  by  good 
judges.  To  be  sure,  her  heft  was  in  her  favor;  her 
heft  was  a  little  less  than  mine,  mebby  100  pounds  or 
so,  and  she  could  most  probable  get  around  spryer,  and 
act  more  frisky.  But  thinkscs  I,  when  a  man  loves  a 
woman  devotedly,  when  lie  carrys  her  in  his  heart, 
what  is  a  few  pounds  more  or  less?  Thinkses  I,  a 
hundred  pounds  hain't  more  than  a  ounce  to  him  under 
the  circumstances;  he  don't  sense  it  at  all.  So  I'd 
try  my  best  to  look  on  the  bright  side,  (right  there  in 
the  dark,)  and  I'd  say  to  myself,  my  Josiah's  affec- 
tions arc  sound,  they  arc  wrapped  completely  round 
me.  And  then  I'd  look  on  the  dark  side,  and  think 
how  1  had  hcarn  that  men's  affections  was  loose  and 
stretchy,  some  like  the  injy  rubber  ribbins  you  get  to 
put  round  papers.  How  it  will  set  tight  round  one, 
and  hold  it  seemin'ly  so  close  that  there  don't  seem  to 
be  room  for  another  single  one,  and  then  how  easy  it 
will  stretch  out  and  hold  tight  round  another  one — 
and  another  one — and  ct  cctery — and  et  cetery. 
Secmin'  to  set  jest  as  easy  round  the  last  ones,  and 
hold  'em  jest  as  tight  and  comfortable  as  the  first 
one.  And  then  I'd  groan,  and  turn  over  agin  and 
groan.  And  once  my  groan  (it  was  a  louder  one  than 


JOSIAII  AWAKES.  85 

my  common  run  of  groans,  and  deeper,)  it  waked 
Josiah  Allen  right  up  out  of  a  sound  sleep,  and  he  was 
skairt,  and  riz  right  up  in  the  end  of  the  bed,  and  says 
he,  in  tones  trcmblin'  with  emotion  and  excitement: 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Samantha?" 

And  I  never  let  on  what  ailed  me,  but  told  him  in 
tones  that  I  tried  to  make  calm  and  even,  (and  as 
lofty  as  I  could  when  I  knew  I  was  talkin  in  a  parable 
way)  that  it  was  a  pain  that  was  a  goarin'  of  me.  I 
didn't  lie.  1  wuz  in  pain,  but  I  didn't  feel  obleegod  to 
explain  the  parable  to  him,  and  tell  him  where  the 
pain  wu-?.  I  didn't  tell  him  it  was  in  my  heart.  And 
he  thought  it  was  in  my  shoulder-blades;  he  thought 
it  was  the  rheumatiz.  And  he  wanted  to  know,  in 
affectionate  tones,  "  if  he  shouldn't  rub  my  back,  or  if 
he  shouldn't  get  me  the  spirits  of  turpentine,  or  the 
camfire?" 

But  I  told  him  no.  I  knew  that  turpentine  was  a 
master  hand  to  strike  in,  but  it  couldn't  never  go 
down  deep  enough  to  strike  at  the  fcelin's  I  felt — and 
camfirc  never  was  made  strong  enough  to  case  off  a 
wounded  spirit,  or  bathe  it  down. 

But  I  held  firm,  and  didn't  say  nothin'.  And 
Josiah  lay  down  agin,  and  in  i  a  minute's  time  was 
fast  asleep,  and  a  dreamin'.  What  was  his  dream? 
Into  what  land  was  his  mind  a  journey  in'?  And  who 
was  his  companion  ?  Was  it  Widder  Bump?  At  that 
fearful  thought  it  seemed  as  if  I  should  expier.  I 
dasscnt  groan  for  fear  of  roustin'  up  my  pardner,  and 


36 


DREADFUL  FEELIN'S. 


so  I  had  to  stand  it  with  sithin'.  Sithes  wouldn't 
wake  him  up.  And  oh  !  what  fearful  and  tremenjous 
sithes  1  sithed  for  the  next  several  moments.  I  hain't 
afraid  to  bet  that  the  best  judge  of  sithes  that  ever 
lived  would  have  said  that  he  never  heard  any  that 


JOSIAH  DREAMING. 

went  ahead  of  these,  nor  see  deeper  ones,  or  more  mel- 
ancholy. Why  my  feelin's  was  dreadful,  and  can't  be 
described  upon.  There  it  was,  dark  as  pitch.  It  was 
jest  before  daylight,  when  it  is  the  darkest  time  in  the 
hull  night.  And  there  my  companion  wuz.  Where 
wuz  lie?  1  couldn't  tell,  nor  nobody.  His  body  lay 


JOSIAH,  WHERE  WAS  HE?  37 

there  by  my  side.  But  the  real  Josiah,  where  wuz  he? 
And  who  was  with  him  where  he  wuz  ?  Oh !  what 
feelin's  I  felt !  what  sithes  I  sithed  ! 

What  blind  creeters  we  are,  anyway.  Our  affections 
reach  out  like  a  wild  grape-vine,  layin'  hold  of  sunthin', 
or  somebody,  a  twistin'  and  a  clingin',  till  death  on- 
clinches  of  'em,  jest  as  foolish,  jest  as  blindly.  Human 
love  is  strong,  but  blinder  than  a  mole. 

How  is  that  grape-vine  to  know  what  it  is  a  clingin' 
to  ?  Blind  instinct  moves  it  to  lay  holt  of  sunthin', 
and  hang  on  till  it  is  tore  away,  or  sot  fire  to,  or 
wrenched  off  by  some  power  outside  of  itself,  and 
killed,  and  destroyed.  But  how  can  it  tell  whether  it 
is  clingin'  round  a  live  oak  or  a  bean-pole  ?  Round 
sunthin'  that  is  sound  to  the  core,  or  holler  as  a  pipes- 
tail  ?  Round  sunthin'  that  will  draw  it  along  the 
ground,  draggin'  it  through  mud  and  mire  into  a  per- 
fect swamp  hole  and  bog,  soilin'  its  bright  leaves, 
dwarfin'  its  free  growth,  poisenin'  it  with  dark  and 
evil  shadows  ?  Or  whether  it  will  draw  it  up  towards 
the  clear  heavens  and  the  sunlight,  and  hold  it  up 
there  by  its  strength — a  happy  vine,  growin'  fresh  and 
bright,  sendin'  out  blessed  tendrils  touchin'  nothin' 
less  pure  than  God's  own  sweet  atmosphire. 

Now  I  worshipped  that  man,  Josiah  Allen.  And  I 
thought  he  loved  the  very  ground  I  walked  on  as 
devotedly  as  I  did  hisen.  I  thought  I  knew  every 
crook  and  turn  in  that  man's  mind.  And  now,  after 

livin'  together  over  20  years,  that  man  had  done  what 
2* 


38  AGONIZIN'  WORDS. 

he  had  done  ;  talked  the  hull  evenin'  long  about  a 
certain  widder,  and  even  in  his  sleep  had  uttered  them 
fearful  and  agonizin'  words — "Widder  Bump!" 

And  there  I  was,  a  strong  woman  in  every  way — 
strong  in  intellect  and  principles,  strong  in  my  love 
for  kim,  strong  in  my  heft.  And  here  I  was,  power- 
less as  a  rag-babe.  No  more  strength  nor  knowledge 
in  the  matter  than  the  rag-babe  would  have.  No  more 
power  in  my  hand  to  lift  up  the  veil  of  mystery  that 
was  hangin'  round  my  Josiah  than  there  would  be  in 
the  babe's,  not  a  mite.  Josiah's  mind  wasn't  the 
strongest  mind  in  the  world — I  had  always  known 
that,  and  had  made  a  practice  of  remindin'  him  of  it 
frequent,  when  I  see  it  would  be  for  his  good.  But 
now,  now  there  wuzn't  a  intellect  powerful  enough  on 
the  face  of  the  earth  to  foller  it  up  and  overthrow  it. 
Out  of  the  reach  of  friend  or  foe ;  beyond  perswasion, 
ridicule,  reasoning  or  entreaty;  out  of  the  reach  of 
me,  his  Samantha.  He  had  gone  off  a  travelin'  with- 
out no  change  of  clothin',  or  railroad  tickets.  Settin' 
off  on  a  journey,  unshackled  by  pardners,  bundles,  and 
umberells.  A  soarin'  free  and  calm  through  that  won- 
derful land.  The  ring  on  my  finger  held  him  before 
earthly  courts  and  constables,  but  there  he  was  a  wan- 
derin',  a  free  Josiah.  Was  I  a  wanderin'  with  him? 
Did  his  soul  reach  out  to  me  from  that  realm — hold  to 
me  so  close  as  to  draw  my  spirit  to  his  adown  them 
shadowy  streets,  into  them  mysterious  homes,  over 
whose  silent  threshold  no  curious  foot  may  pass? 


THOSE    "  AWKUI-    WORDS." 


THE  PHANTOM  WIDDER.  41 

Was  his  lawful  pardner  with  him  there,  where  she 
should  be  ?  Was  his  thought  loyal  to  me,  where  there 
was  no  law,  no  influence,  or  constraint  to  make  him 
constant — or  was  he  a  cuttin'  up  and  a  actin',  flirtin' 
in  spirit  with  the  phantom  thought  of  a  Widder  Bump? 
Here  I  would  sithe  powerful,  and  turn  over  agin,  and 
sithe. 

And  so  the  tejus  night  passed  away.  But  one  great 
determination  I  made  there  in  them  fearful  moments 
of  darkness  and  mystery,  one  powerful  resolve  I  made, 
and  determined  to  keep:  I  would  hold  firm.  And 
never  let  my  pardner  know  I  was  a  mistrustin'  any- 
thing. But  every  minute  of  the  time,  day  and  night, 
I  would  keep  the  eye  of  my  spectacles  open,  and  try  to 
find  out  what  was  a  goin'  on.  But  little,  little  did  I 
think  what  it  was  that  was  a  goin'  on.  Little  did  I 
realize  the  size  and  heft  of  the  earthquake  that  was  a 
rumblin'  and  a  roarin'  under  that  feather-bed  unbe- 
known to  me.  But  more  of  this  hereafter  and  anon. 

The  next  mornin'  sunthin'  happened  to  me  that, 
comin'  as  it  did  jest  at  this  curious  and  tryin'  time,  was 
enough  to  scare  anybody  most  to  death.  I  had  a  sign ; 
a  mysterious  warnin'.  I  happened  to  take  up  the  last 
World  while  my  dish-water  was  a  heatin',  and  the  very 
first  words  the  eye  of  my  spectacles  fell  on — right 
there  in  broad  daylight — entirely  unexpected  to  me,  I 
read  these  awful  words : 

A  meetin'-house  steeple  had  fell  flat  down  the  day 
before — fell  right  down  into  a  man's  door-yard,  sudden 


42 


A  SOLEMN  WARNIN' 


and  unexpected,  broke  a 
hen-coop  and  five  lengths 
of  fence,  and  skairt  'em 
most  to  death.  They 
thought,  them  folks  did, 
that  that  steeple  stood 
firm  and  sound.  They 
never  mistrusted  it  was 
a  tottlin'.  And  it  had 
stood  straight  and  firm 
for  year  after  year,  prob- 
able for  over  20  years. 
But  there  come  along  a 
gust  of  wind  too  strong 
for  it,  and  over  it  went 
right  into  their  door- 
yard  ;  its  lofty  head  was 
bowed  into  the  dust,  the 
hen-coop  and  fence  was 
squshed  down  forever, 
and  they  was  skairt. 

I  don't  believe  too 
much  in  signs  and  won- 
derments, yet  I  don't 
s'pose  a  man  or  a  woman 
lives  who  hain't  got  a 
little  streak  of  supersti- 
tion and  curiousness  in 
'em.  I  s'pose  liviii'  as 


READIN'  THE  SIGN  RIGHT.  43 

we  do  with  another  world  that  we  don't  know  notliih' 
about  pressin'  so  close  about  us  on  every  side,  livin' 
in  such  curious  circumstances  makes  us  feel  sort  o' 
curious. 

Some  as  Miss  Arden  felt,  the  one  that  Mr.  Tennyson 
wrote  about,  she  that  was  Ann  Lee.  When  her  hus- 
band Enock  got  lost  she  wouldn't  gin  up  that  he  was 
dead,  and  marry  to  another  man,  till  she  opened  the 
Bible  and  looked  for  a  sign.  I  have  heard  Thomas  J. 
read  it  so  much  that  Ann  seems  near  to  me,  almost 
like  one  of  the  Smiths.  But  though  Ann  did  find  a 
sign,  and  was  mistaken  in  it,  or  didn't  give  it  the  right 
mcaniu',  I  was  determined  to  read  mine  right.  I  felt 
a  feelin'  in  my  bones  that  them  words  was  meant  to 
me  for  a  warnin ;  was  gin  to  me  as  a  sign  to  meditate 
on.  If  a  mcetin'  house  steeple  could  tottle,  my  Josiah's 
morals  was  liable  to  tottle;  if  that  steeple  fell  right 
down  flat  into  a  man's  door-yard,  breakin'  down  and 
squsliiu'  what  it  had  broke  down  and  squshed,  my 
Josiah  was  liable  to  fall  flat  down  in  a  moral  way,  and 
sqush  down  all  my  earthly  comfort  and  happiness  ;  and 
1  felt  a  feelin'  that  if  I  would  save  him  I  must  be  up 
and  a  doin'. 

Now  if  them  folks  had  mistrusted  that  that  steeple 
was  gettin'  shaky,  they  could  have  tied  it  up,  mebby, 
and  kep'  it  straight.  And  I  was  determined  that  if 
tyin'  up,  or  anything  of  that  sort,  would  keep  my 
Josiah  up,  he  should  be  tied.  I  am  speakin'  poetically, 


44  WATCH  YOUR  PARDNERS. 

and  would  wish  to  be  so  understood.  Ropes  was  not 
in  my  mind,  neither  tow  strings. 

And  then  as  I  come  to  think  things  over,  and  look 
at  the  subject  on  every  side,  as  my  way  is,  I  felt  a 
feelin'  that  I  hadn't  done  as  I  ort.  My  mind  had  been 
on  a  perfect  strain  for  2  weeks  on  that  alpacka  dress, 
and  I  hadn't  kep'  watch  of  my  pardner  as  pardners 
ort  to  be  watched  over.  Men  are  considerable  likely 
critters,  but  they  are  sort  o'  frisky  in  their  minds, 
onstiddy,  waverin'  kinder.  They  need  a  stiddy  bit, 
and  a  firm  martingill,  to  drive  'em  along  straight  in 
the  married  life,  and  keep  their  minds  and  affections 
stabled  and  firm  sot  onto  their  lawful  pardners.  I 
have  said  that  there  wasn't  a  jealous  hair  in  my  head, 
not  a  hair.  But  filosify  and  deep  reasonin'  has  learnt 
me  severe  and  deep  lessons.  Even  after  the  fearful 
night  1  had  passed,  the  awful  words  I  had  listened  to 
from  the  lips  of  a  sleepin'  Josiah,  still  filosify  whis- 
pered to  me  that  my  pardner  was  as  good  as  the  com- 
mon run  of  men,  and  I,  in  strainin'  my  mind  on  store- 
clothes,  had  neglected  things  of  far  more  importance ; 
I  had  neglected  lookin'  after  my  companion  as  men 
ort  to  be  looked  after.  The  cat,  to  use  a  poetical  and 
figurative  expression,  had  been  away,  and  the  mouse 
had  gone  to  playin'.  Or,  to  bring  poesy  down  to  prose. 
and  to  common  comprehension,  the  cat  had  been  fixin1 
over  a  brown  alpacka  dress,  and  the  mouse  had  got  to 
follerin'  up  a  Widdcr  Bump  in  his  mind. 

I  believe  when  the  man  goes  to  cuttin'  up  and  actin', 


ATTRACTIVE  HOMES.  45 

if  the  female  pardner,  upheld  by  principle,  would  take 
a  microscope  and  look  over  her  past,  she  would  more'n 
as  likely  as  not  come  bunt  up  against  some  fault  of 
her  own,  some  neglect,  some  carelessness,  some  things 
she  had  done  that  she  ortn't  to  done,  or  some  things 
she  hadn't  done  that  she  ort.  She  could  trace  back 
their  cuttin's  up  and  actin's  to  some  little  unguarded 
moments,  when  through  hurry,  or  carelessness,  or 
neglect,  she  had  let  the  lines  and  martingills  of  ten- 
derness and  watchfulness  drop  out  of  her  hand,  and 
had  let  her  pardner  go  a  caperin'  off  with  notliiu'  but 
a  halter  on,  a  prancin'  up  and  down  society  like  a  3- 
year  old  colt  that  hadn't  had  a  bittin'  rig  on.  Pard- 
ners  have  got  to  be  humored.  They  have  got  to  be 
made  comfortable  and  happy  in  their  own  homes; 
their  companions  has  got  to  make  themselves  attrac- 
tive to  'em,  or  they  won't  be  attracted.  Viniger  won't 
draw  flies  worth  a  cent.  And  pardners  have  got  to  be 
watched ;  for  this  is  the  law  and  the  profit. 

They  have  got  to  be  reined  up  to  the  post  of  duty, 
and  hitched  there.  They  are  naturally  balky,  and 
love  to  shy  off  side-ways,  and  there  haiut  no  use 
denyin'  of  it. 

I  tell  you,  I  had  deep  thoughts  that  day  as  I  went 
round  the  house  a  doin'  up  my  work ;  awful  deep  ones, 
and  a  sight  of  'em,  probable  as  many  as  2  dozen  a  min- 
ute right  along  through  the  day;  some  solemn  and 
affectin'  ones,  about  as  solemn  as  they  make,  and  some 


46  A  HARD  JOB  IN  FRONT. 


more  hopeful  like,  and  chirk.  1  tell  you,  my  mind  got 
fairly  tuckered  out  by  the  middle  of  the  afternoon. 

But  with  Samaritha,  regret,  repentance,  and  reform- 
ation follcr  right  straight  on  after  each  other,  jest  like 
3  horses  hitched  in  front  of  each  other  drawin'  a  heavy 
load.  I  see  there  was  a  duty  in  front  of  me  to  tackle ; 
I  see  that  I  must  not  let  Josiah  Allen  go  off  to  Jones- 
ville  another  night  without  his  pardncr.  I  must  leave 
cares  and  store-clothes  in  the  back-ground,  and  come 
out  nobly,  and  make  my  home  and  myself  agreeable  to 
my  pardner,  and  keep  a  keen  and  vigilant  eye  onto  his 
proceedin's  and  goin's  on. 

So  that  evenin'  along  towards  night,  when  he  spoke 
out  in  that  same  sort  o'  strange  and  curious  way  about 
Jonesville,  and  that  "after  supper  he  guessed  he'd 
hitch  up  and  go." 

Then  it  was  that  I  spoke  up  mild  and  firm  as  my 
soap-stun,  and  said,  "I  guessed  I'd  go,  too."  He 
looked  brow-beat  and  stunted  by  my  remark,  and  says 
he:  "I  am  most  afraid  to  have  you  go  out  in  such 
muggy  weather,  Samantha.  I  don't  believe  you  realize 
how  muggy  it  is." 

Says  I,  in  a  brave,  noble  tone :  "  It  hain't  no  mug- 
gier for  me  than  it  is  for  you,  Josiah  Allen,  and  if  you 
go,  I  go,  too." 

"  Wall,"  says  he,  with  that  same  dumb-foundered 
and  stunted  mean,  "the  old  mare  hadn't  ort  to  go  out 
agin  to-night ;  she  lost  a  shoe  off  last  week.  I  don't 
believe  we  had  better  try  to  go." 


THE  LAST  MEETIN'. 


47 


Says  I  coolly :  "  Do  jest  as  you  are  a  mind  to,  but  if 
you  must  go,  it  is  my  duty  to  stand  by  you  and  go, 
too ;  if  my  pardner  has  got  a  hard  job  in  front  of  him 
to  tackle,  it  is  my  duty  to  tackle  it,  too." 


JOSIAH  S   DISAPPOINTMENT. 


"Wall,"  says  he,  "I  guess  I'll  go  out  to  the  barn 
and  onharness.  The  old  mare  hadn't  ort  to  go  out 
with  her  off  shoe  in  such  a  condition." 

But  as  he  drawed  on  his  overhauls,  I  heard  him 
mutter  sunthin'  to  himself  about  "its  bein'  the  last 
night  the  Elder  would  be  there  till  fall."  But  I  over- 
heard him,  and  says  I : 

"  You  know,  Josiah  Allen,  that  Elder  Bamber  has 


48  CREAM  BUSCUIT. 


gin  up  goin'  home ;  his  mother's  fits  is  broke  up,  and 
he  hain't  a  goin'.  And  there'l  be  meetin's  right  along 
every  night  jest  as  there  has  been." 

They've  been  holdin'  protracted  meetin's  to  Jones- 
ville  for  quite  a  spell,  and  I  s'posed  them  was  the 
meetin's  that  Josiah  meant.  Ah !  little,  little  did  I 
know  what  Elder  he  meant,  or  what  meetin's.  But  he 
knew  me  too  well  to  tell  me.  He  knew  well  the  sound- 
ness and  heft  of  my  principles.  He  hadn't  lived  with 
'em  above  20  years  without  findin'  'em  out.  But  more 
of  this  hereafter  and  anon. 

When  Josiah  come  into  the  house  agin,  and  sot 
down,  he  had  that  same  sort  o'  cross,  brow-beat  look 
to  him.  And  he  spoke  out  sort  o'  surly  like:  "Hain't 
it  about  supper-time,  Samantha?  And  if  you've  got 
over  bein'  in  such  a  dreadful  hurry  with  that  dress, 
mcbby  you'll  have  time  to  get  a  little  sunthin'  better  to 
eat.  1  declare  for't,"  says  lie  in  a  pitiful  tone,  ''you 
have  most  starved  me  out  for  a  week  or  two.  And 
you  hain't  seemed  to  have  had  time  to  say  a  word  to 
me,  nor  nothin'.  Your  mind  hain't  seemed  to  be  on 
me  a  mite.  And,"  says  he,  with  a  still  more  depressted 
and  melancholy  look,  "a  cream-biscuit  is  sunthin'  I 
hain't  seen  for  weeks.  Nothin'  but  bread!  bread! " 

Oh !  how  my  conscience  smited  me  as  I  heard  them 
W0rds — it  smited  and  smarted  like  a  burn.  Yet  at 
the  same  time  his  words  kind  o'  chirked  me  up,  they 
made  me  think  what  a  powerful  arrow  I  had  in  my 
hands  to  shoot  down  my  sorrow  with.  They  made  me 


MY  POWERFUL  WEEPON.  49 

feel  that  it  wum't  too  late  to  save  my  pardner,  and 
that  was  a  sweet  thought  to  me. 

Yes,  with  a  thankful  and  grateful  heart,  1  grasped 
holt  of  that  weepon  that  had  defended  me  so  many 
times  before  on  hard  battlefields  of  principle.  I  held 
that  weepon  firm  and  upright  as  a  spear,  and  says  I : 

"  Josiah,  you  shall  have  as  good  a  supper  as  hands 
can  get."  Says  I,  "Besides  the  common  run  of  vittlcs 
we  jenerally  have  for  supper,  cake  and  tarts  and  such 
stuff,  what  do  you  say,  •  Josiah  Allen,  to  havin'  a 
briled  chicken,  and  toast,  and  mashed-up  potatoes,  and 
cream  biscuit,  and  peaches?" 

His  mean  changed  in  a  minute.  I  never  see  a  mean 
in  my  hull  life  look  more  radicnt  than  hiscn  did  as  I 
spoke  them  words.  And  my  breast  heaved  with  such 
happy  and  grateful  emotion  that  it  most  bust  off  2 
buttons  in  front  (them  buttons  wuzn't  what  they  was 
recommended  to  be  ;  there  was  sunthin'  wrong  about 
'em  in  the  shanks).  Though  the  mournful  and  mys- 
terious episode  and  Widdcr  Bump  was  remembered, 
yet  I  felt  a  feelin'  that  I  should  win  my  pardner  back 
— I  should  save  his  sole  alive. 

But  yet  I  had  solemn  feclin's,  I  can  tell  you,  all  the 
while  I  was  a  mixin'  up  them  cream  biscuit,  and 
brilein'  that  chicken,  and  makin'  that  toast,  and 
mashin'  up  them  potatoes,  and  puttin'  plenty  of  cream 
and  butter  into  'em. 

I  well  knew  I  was  a  handlin'  my  most  powerful 
weepons.  I  knew  if  them  failed,  1  was  ondone. 


50  GOOD  VITTLES  A  TANAKY. 

1  had  meditated  so  many  times  and  so  deep  onto 
this  subject,  that  1  knew  every  crook  and  turn  in  it. 
How  a  man's  conscience,  his  moral  faculties,  and  his 
affections  was  connected  by  mighty  and  resistless  cords 
to  his  appetite.  I  knew  well  that  when  his  morals 
was  tottliu',  when  he  was  wild,  balky,  fractious,  and 
oneasy,  good  vittles  was  the  panaky  that  soothes. 
And  when  the  mighty  waves  of  temptation  was  tostin' 
him  to  and  fro — when  scoldin's  seemed  futile,  and 
curtain  lectures  seemed  vain,  extra  good  vittles  was 
the  anchor  that  winimin  could  drop  down  into  them 
scethin'  waters,  knowin'  that  if  that  didn't  holt,  she 
could,  in  the  words  of  the  Sanimist,  "give  up  the 
ship." 

Yes,  as  Josiah  Allen  see  me  a  gettin'  that  supper 
he  grew  calm,  peaceful,  his  demeanor  towards  me 
grew  sweet  and  lovin',  his  affections  seemed  to  be 
stabled  and  firm  sot  onto  me'.  I  see,  and  I  can  tell 
you  I  was  a  proud  and  happy  woman  as  I  see  it,  that 
the  anchor  I  had  thvowed  overboard  was  a  grapplin' 
the  rock.  Agin,  as  in  days  past  and  gone,  in  different 
crysises  of  my  life,  philosophy,  principle,  and  Saman- 
tha  conquered. 

The  supper  was  a-  success.  The  spring  chicken  was 
plump  and  tender,  but  not  more  tender  than  Josiah's 
demeanor  to  me  as  he  partook  of  that  refreshment. 
The  cream  biscuit  was  light  and  warm ;  so  was  my 
heart  as  I  see  my  happy  pardiicr  cat  the  7th  one. 
The  peaches  was  delicious  and  sweet;  so  was  my 


A  MOMENTIOUS  VICTOEY.  51 

Josiah's  smile  onto  me,  as  I  dipped  out  the  4th  sass 
plate  full  and  handed  it  to  him.  And  after  supper  he 
sot  there  by  my  side  calm  and  peaceful,  and  the  Wid- 
der  Bump  and  all  other  earthly  cares  and  agonys 
seemed  to  be  forgot. 

But  it  wuzn't  till  long  afterwards,  it  wuzn't  till  the 
4th  day  of  the  next  September,  though  I  mistrusted,  I 
mistrusted  strong  before,  but  it  wuzn't  till  then,  that 
I  knew  for  certain  what  a  glorious  and  momentious 
victory  I  had  won  that  day.  What  great  and  awful 
responsibilities  was  a  devolvin'  onto  them  cream  bis- 
cuit, and.  hangin'  round  that  chicken  and  toast  and 
potatoes.  I  felt  solemn  feelin's  a  gettin'  that  supper, 
and  curious  ones  a  catin'  of  it.  But  oh,  what  feelin's 
should  I  have  felt  if  I  had  known  what  a  earthquake 
was  a  rumblin'  and  a  roarin'  under  that  table  unbe- 
known to  me. 

Oh,  what  blind  creeters  the  fur  seein'est  of  us  are, 
how  powerless  are  the  most  magnifyest  spectacles  to 
see  the  brinks  that  pardners  are  a  hangin'  over  unbe- 
known to  us.  But  of  this,  more  hereafter  and  anon. 


KITTY  SMITH  AND  CALEB  COBB. 

WE  have  got  a  dretful  pretty  girl  a-stayin'  with 
us  now,  one  of  the  relation  on*  my  side,  one 
of  the  Smiths.  When  we  heard  she  was  a  comin', 
Josiah  kinder  hung  back  from  the  idee  at  first.  But 
as  I  see  him  a  hangin'  back,  I  calmly,  and  with  dig- 
nity, took  the  Widder  Doodle,  one  of  the  relations  on 
his  side,  and  mildly  yet  firmly  threw  her  in  his  face. 
It  hit  him  jest  right,  the  idee  did,  and  I  hain't  heard  a 
word  sense  of  murmurin's  or  complainings  about  the 
Smiths. 

I  enjoy  her  bein'  here  the  best  that  ever  was.  We 
have  took  lots  of  comfort  sense  she  come.  Not  that 
happiness  and  security  has  caused  me  to  shut  that 
open  eye  of  my  spectacle.  No !  that  is  still  on  the 
watch,  vigilent  and  keen,  and  if  there  is  anything 
a  goin'  on,  I  feel  that  it  cannot  long  he  hid  from  that 
eye.  But  everything  has  seemed  calm  and  peaceful, 
Josiah  is  affectionate  and  almost  tender  in  his  mean 
to  me.  And  I  learn  from  the  neighbors  that  the  Wid- 

(52) 


KITTY    SMITH. 


A  PRETTY  GIRL.  55 


der  Bump  has  gone  off  on  a  visit  to  her  folkses.  But 
still  that  eye  of  my  speck  is  sleepless.  Not  once  has 
it  closed  itself  in  slumber,  and  still  I  hold  firm. 

Kitty  Smith  is  a  pretty  girl,  as  pretty  a  one  as  I 
ever  see.  The  Smiths,  as  1  have  said  to  Josiah  a 
number  of  times,  was  always  pretty  fair  lookin'.  He 
thinks  so  too,  only  when  he  is  fractious.  She  looks 
a  good  deal  as  I  did  when  I  was  her  age;  Josiah 
owned  up  to  me  the  other  night  that  she  did.  We  had 
had  a  splendid  good  supper,  and  he  felt  well,  and  he 
said  so  of  his  own  accord.  And  then  she  favors  her 
mother  considerable,  a  good-lookin'  woman  as  I  ever 
see,  and  smart. 

Kitty  is  very  fair  complected,  smooth,  as  delicate  as 
a  sea-shell,  with  curly  hair  almost  gold-colored,  only 
bearin'  a  little  on  the  brown,  kinder  fruzzly  and  fluffy 
on  top,  blowin'  all  over  her  forward  when  she  goes 
out  in  the  wind,  or  anything.  And  her  forward  bein' 
white  as  snow,  when  the  little  gold  rings  and  curls  are 
a  blowin'  all  over  it,  they  look  well.  She  has  got  sort 
'o  pinky  cheeks,  and  her  eyes  are  big  and  dark,  and 
kinder  grey  like,  and  all  runnin'  over  with  fun  and 
mischief.  She  is  the  biggest  witch  out.  And  her  lips 
are  red  as  two  roses,  and  always  a  laughin',  them  and 
her  eyes ;  I  don't  know  which  laughs  the  most.  Her 
name  is  Kitty,  and  she  is  just  as  affectionate  as  a  little 
kitten,  and  as  playful. 

I  think  a  sight  on  her.  And  I  love  to  look  at  her. 
I  always  did  love  to  look  at  a  handsome  woman. 


56  KITTY'S  SECRET. 

There  are  some  wimmen  that  it  gauls  to  sec  a  female 
handsomer  than  they  be,  but  it  never  did  me.  I 
always  loved  to  see  handsome  pictures,  and  a  beautiful 
woman's  face  is  a  picture  with  a  soul  in  it. 

I  set  a  great  deal  of  store  by  her,  and  so  does 
Josiah  and  the  childern ;  they  are  all  a  quarrclin'  now 
which  will  have  her  the  most.  But  we  shan't  none  of 
us  have  her  long,  I  s'pose.  For  she  has  told  me  in 
strict  confidence,  and  if  I  tell,  it  must  not  go  no 
further,  for  it  must  be  hep1!  She  don't  want  Josiah 
and  the  childern  to  get  holt  of  it,  knowin'  they  would 
plague  her  most  to  death.  She  is  engaged  to  be 
married  to  a  awful  smart-lookin'  feller.  She  showed 
me  his  picture — a  keen-eyed,  noble-lookin'  chap,  I  can 
tell  you,  and  well  off.  His  father  owns  the  big  manu- 
factory where  her  father  was  overseer  when  he  died, 
and  where  her  mother  keeps  boarders  now.  His 
father  stood  out,  at  first,  about  his  marryin'  a  poor 
girl.  And  Kitty  come  off  out  here  for  a  long 
visit ;  her  mother  wanted  her  to ;  they  are  both  proud, 
and  won't  force  themselves  into  no  company.  But 
Mark — that  is  the  young  feller's  name — Mark  stands 
firm,  and  the  old  man  is  a  comin'  round  gradual. 
Kitty,  though  she  jest  worships  Mark,  won't  go  there 
till  she  is  welcome,  and  I  bear  her  out  in  it.  That  is 
why  she  is  here  on  such  a  long  tower.  But  she  knows 
it  is  all  a  comin'  out  right ;  her  mother  says  it  is ;  and 
Mark  writes  to  her  every  day  or  two,  and  she  is  happy 
as  a  bird. 


COURTIN'  ON  A  HEARSE.  57 

But  she  is  a  little  too  full  of  fun  sometimes,  and 
thoughtless.  She  don't  realize  things  as  she  ort,  and 
as  she  will  when  she  is  older.  Now  there  is  a  young 
feller  here  in  Jonesville  that  has  got  after  her,  Caleb 
Cobb,  or  Kellup,  as  everybody  calls  him.  And  just 
out  of  pure  fun  she  lets  him  foller  her  up.  I  feel  bad 
about  it,  and  so  I  have  told  Josiah.  But  he  said  "  she 
didn't  mean  no  more  hurt  than  a  kitten  did,  a-playin' 
with  a  mouse." 

Says  I,  "Josiah  Allen,  hain't  it  bad  for  the  mouse  ?'* 

"Wall,"  says  Josiah,  "it  no  need  to  have  been  a 
mouse  then." 

Says  I,  "  That  is  a  dretful  deep  argument,  Josiah." 
Says  I,  "  I  should  be  afraid  to  be  so  smart,  if  I  was  in 
your  place.  I  should  be  afraid  they'd  want  me  to 


My  tone  was  witherin'  and  dry  as  a  fish.  But 
Josiah  didn't  feel  withered  up.  The  fact  is,  he  hates 
Kellup,  and  loves  to  see  him  fooled,  that  is  the  truth 
on't.  Kellup's  father  is  the  cabinet-maker  to  Jones- 
ville, and  Kellup  drives  the  hearse,  and  he  comes  to 
see  Kitty  in  it.  His  father  does  sights  and  sights  of 
business  out  in  the  country  all  round  Jonesville,  and 
every  time  Kellup  is  called  out  with  it,  on  his  way 
home  he  will  go  milds  and  milds  out  of  his  way  for 
the  privilege  of  stoppin'  and  seein'  her.  And  he'll 
hitch  that  hearse  to  the  front  gate,  and  come  in  and 
try  to  court  her.  Why,  anybody  would  think  a  pesti- 
lence had  broke  out  in  our  three  housen,  our'n,  and 


58  A  DANGEROUS  CHARACTER. 

Tirzah  Ann's,  and  Thomas  Jefferson's,  to  see  that 
hearse  hitched  in  front  of  'em  every  day  or  two.  It 
works  me  up  and  gives  me  awful  feelin's.  But  Kitty 
jest  giggles  and  laughs  over  it,  and  Josiah  and  the 
children  encourages  her  in  it.  They  hate  Kellup  like 
pisen. 

And  he  is  one  of  the  stingiest,  disagreeablest,  con- 
ceitedest,  self-righteousest  creeters  that  I  ever  see  in 
my  life.  And  pretends  to  be  religious.  Why,  I  spose 
tight  is  no  name  for  his  tightness.  Somebody  made 
the  remark  that  he  was  a  wolf  in  sheep's  clothing. 
And  Thomas  J.  said  it  wasn't  nothin'  but  the  sheep's 
hide,  then,  for  if  it  had  been  the  hull  pelt  he'd  sell 
the  wool  offen  it  quicker'n  a  wink. 

And  he  thinks  he  is  so  beautiful,  and  dangerous  to 
wimmen.  But  I  never  could  bear  his  looks.  He  has 
got  great  big  black  eyes,  dretful  shallcr,  no  depth  to 
'em,  some  like  huckleberries,  only  bigger,  but  jest 
about  as  much  soul  and  expression  into  'em  as  a 
huckleberry  has.  And  a  sailer  skin  and  low  forward, 
with  sights  of  hair  and  whiskers.  The  curiousest  hair, 
and  the  singularest  whiskers  that  I  ever  did  see. 

They  are  very  heavy  and  bushy,  and  he  bein'  pretty 
well  along  in  years,  they  would  be  as  grey  as  two  rats. 
But  bein'  a  bachelder,  and  wantin'  to  pass  off  as  a 
young  man,  he  colors  'em.  Which  would  be  all  per- 
fectly proper  and  right,  and  no  more  than  lots  of  folks 
do ;  but  the  peculiarity  is,  he  is  so  uncommon  tight 
that  he  wont  buy  hair  dye,  but  makes  experiments 


CALEB  COBB. 


59 


with  himself,  steeps  up  things,  roots  and  herbs,  and 
stuffs  he  can  buy  cheap,  minerals  and  things,  cateku, 
and  so  4th,  and  pusly.  And  so  you  hardly  ever  see 
him  twice  with  his  hair  and  whiskers  and  eyebrows 
the  same  color.  And 
I'll  be  hanged  if  he 
haint  some  of  the 
time  the  curiousest 
lookin'  creeter  that 
was  ever  seen  out 
side  of  a  menagery. 
If  he  would  only 
settle  down  on  one 
color  and  keep  it  up, 
it  wouldn't  be  so  bad 
for  him.  London 
brown  hair  and 

JVCiUiJUJT. 

whiskers     wouldn't 

look  so  awful  bad  after  you  get  used  to  'em,  or  cateku 
color,  or  madder  red.  But  he  thinks,  I  spose,  that 
he  will  hit  on  sunthin'  cheaper  than  he  has  hit  on ; 
so  he  will  keep  on  tamperin'  with  'em,  and  makin' 
experiments,  and  you  won't  no  sooner  get  used  to  seein' 
'em  cinneman  color,  than  the  very  next  thing  they  will 
be  a  bright  pusly  color,  or  sorrel.  It  jest  spiles  his 
looks,  and  so  I  have  told  Josiah. 

And  he  said  "  It  was  hard  spilin'  anything  that  was 
born  spilt."  And  I  told  him  "  That  no  human  bein'  was 
ever  born  with  pusly-colored  hair  and  whiskers." 


WORLDLY  LUXURIES. 


And  he  said  "  He  was  born  a  dumb  fool !  " 

And  I  didn't  deny  it,  and  didn't  try  to,  only  I 
scolded  him  powerful  and  severe  on  the  "  dumb." 

His  hair  and  whiskers,  as  I  say,  are  always  some 
new  and  curius  shade,  very  changeable  and  oncertain, 
as  to  color,  but  they  are  always  greasy.  He  uses 
sights  and  sights  of  hair  oil ;  he  makes  it  himself  out 
of  lard,  scented  up  high  with  peppermint.  He  uses 
peppermint  essence  on  his  handkerchy,  too  (he  gathers 
his  own  peppermint  and  makes  it,  and  uses  it  lavish). 
He  says  that  is  the  only  vain,  worldly  luxury  he  in- 
dulges in.  He  says  he  feels  guilty  about  usin'  up  his 
property  in  it,  but  it  is  such  a  comfort  to  him  that  he 
don't  feel  as  if  he  can  give  it  up. 

His  clothes  are  always  very  cheap  and  poor  lookin', 
when  he  is  dressed  up  the  most,  but  he  dresses  very 
poor  the  most  of  the  time,  for  principle,  he  says,  to 
try  to  wean  the  wimmen  from  him  as  much  as  he  can. 

And  take  him  with  them  clothes  of  hisen,  and  that 
curius  lookin'  hair  and  whiskers  all  round  his  chin, 
and  up  the  sides  of  his  face,  he  is  as  sepulchral  and 
singular  a  lookin'  a  chap  as  I  ever  laid  eyes  on. 

He  is  a  bachelder,  Kellup  is,  not  from  necessity,  he 
says,  but  because  he  has  found  it  so  hard  to  select  one 
from  the  surroundin'  wimmen  that  want  him.  He  has 
told  me  that  the  two  main  reasons  why  he  didn't 
marry,  one  was,  he  found  it  so  awful  hard  to  select 
one  out  of  so  many,  and  the  other,  it  was  so  tryin'  to 


WHY  HE  DIDN'T  MARRY.  61 

him  to  hurt  the  feelins'  of  them  he  would  have  to 
slight  if  he  made  a  choice. 

Why,  he  talked  with  me  about  it  over  two  years 
ago.  He  was  in  to  our  house  one  day,  and  Josiah  had 
been  a  attin'  him  about  his  not  gettin'  married,  and 
after  Josiah  went  out,  he  talked  to  me  confidential.  I 
s'pose  it  is  that  sort  of  a  noble,  lofty  look,  to  my  face, 
that  makes  folks  confide  in  me  so  much.  Says  he, 

"  I  am  tender-hearted,  Josiah  Allen's  wife.  I  am 
too  tender-hearted  for  my  own  good.  There  is  so 
many  wimnien  that  want  me,  and  it  would  cut  me,  it 
would  cut  me  like  a  knife  to  have  to  disapinte  so  many." 

He  stopped  here  for  me  to  say  sunthin',  and  I  re- 
marked, in  a  sort  of  a  dry  tone,  that  I  wouldn't  worry 
about  'em,  if  I  was  in  his  place." 

"  Wall,"  says  he,  "  I  shouldn't  worry,  if  I  was  like 
some  men.  I  should  slash  right  in  and  marry,  without 
payin'  any  attention  to  other  wimmens  feelin's.  But 
if  I  should  kill  half  a  dozen  wimmen  or  so,  Josiah 
Allen's  wife,  I  feel  that  I  never  should  forgive  myself." 

Here  he  stopped  agin,  and  I  see  that  he  wanted  me 
to  say  sunthin'  ;  and  not  knowin'  exactly  what  to  say, 
I  said  sort  o'  mechanically,  without  really  thinkin'  what 
I  was  a  sayin',  that  it  would  be  a  good  stroke  of  busi- 
ness for  his  father. 

"  Yes,"  says  he,  "  but  the  profits  we  should  make 
wouldn't  much  more  than  half  pay  me  for  the  feelin's 
I  should  have  a  thinkin'  I  was  the  means  of  their 
dyin'  off. 


62  TENDER-HEARTEDNESS. 

"  Why,"  says  he,  takin'  out  his  pocket  handkerchief 
and  wipin'  his  forward,  till  the  room  smelt  as  strong 
as  a  peppermint  sling, — "there  haint  a  woman  in 
Jonesville  but  what  would  jump  at  the  chance  of 
marryin'  of  me.  But  they  mustn't  calculate  too 
strong  on  it.  I  wouldn't  be  the  one  to  tell  'em  right 
out  plain  that  there  wasn't  no  hopes  of  gettin'  me. 
That  would  be  a  little  too  heartless  and  cold-blooded 
in  me.  But  they  mustn't  build  up  too  high  castles  in 
the  air  about  it,  for  I  may  not  marry  at  all.' 

"  Like  as  not  you  wont,"  says  I,  speakin'  not  quite 
so  mekanikle,  but  with  considerable  more  meanin'. 
"  I  shouldn't  wonder  a  mite  if  you  didn't." 

"  No,"  says  he,  foldin'  his  arms  and  lookin'  haugh- 
tily at  a  picture  of  a  woman  over  the  wood-box. 

"  No ;  the  thing  of  it  is  I  am  so  tender-hearted,  and 
hate  so  to  cause  sufferin'. 

"  I  can't,"  says  he,  knittin'  up  his  eyebrows  (they 
was  a  kind  of  a  olive  green  that  day),  "I  can't  marry 
all  the  wimmen  that  want  me.  That  is  a  settled  thing. 
Anybody  with  half  a  mind  can  see  that.  I  can't  do  it. 
And  so  what  would  the  result  be  if  I  should  make  a 
choice,  and  marry  one.  One  woman  made  happy,  and 
cruelty,  wanton,  bloody  cruelty,  to  all  other  wimmen 
fur  and  near.  Would  that  one  woman's  happiness," 
says  he,  knittin'  up  his  eye-brows  as  hard  as  I  ever  see 
any  knit,  and  I  have  seen  some  considerable  hard 
knittin'  in  my  day,  "  would  that  one  woman's  hap- 
piness go  anywhere  near  makin'  up  for  the  agony  that 


CRUELTY,  WANTON  CRUELTY. 


63 


would  rack  the  breasts  of  other  wimmen,  and  tear 
their  heart-strings  all  to  flitters  ?  That  is  the  ques- 
tion," says  he,  lookin'  gloomily  into  the  wood-box, 


THE  WOMAN  QUESTION. 

"  that  is  wearin'  on  me  night  and  day,  and  what  shall 
I  do  to  do  right  ?  " 

"  Wall,"  says  I,  "  I  can't  advise  you.  I  wouldn't 
marry,  if  I  thought  it  was  a  goin'  to  kill  ten  or  a 
dozen ;  and  I  wouldn't  marry  anyway,  unless  I  got  a 
chance." 

"  Chance  !  "  says  he  haughtily.  "  Why,  there  haint 
a  woman  in  the  country  but  what  would  jump  to  have 


64  KEPT  HIS  DIGNITY. 

me ;  that  is,"  says  he  in  a  reasonable  tone,  "  if  they 
wasn't  too  old  to  jump,  or  wasn't  disabled  in  some 
way,  rheumatiz,  or  sunthin,  or  sprains.  They  all  want 
me." 

"  Why,"  says  I,  tryin'  to  chirk  him  up,  and  make 
him  feel  better,  "  I  thought  it  was  right  the  other 
way.  I  thought  you  had  got  the  mitten  more'n  a 
dozen  times.  There  was  Polly  Bamber" — 

"  Oh,  well.  Polly  Bamber  loved,  me  to  distraction. 
She  tried  to  conceal  it  from  me.  She  refused  me, 
thinkin'  it  would  make  me  fiercer  to  marry  her.  But 
she  got  fooled.  I  only  asked  her  three  times.  She 
was  waitin'  for  the  fourth,  and  I  spose  she  was  as  dis- 
apinted  as  a  girl  ever  was.  I  was  sorry  for  her  ;  my 
heart  fairly  ached  for  her ;  but  I  had  a  man's  dignity 
to  keep  up,  and  I  left  her." 

"  Wall,  there  was  Betsey  Gowdey." 

"  Betsey  would  have  had  me  in  a  minute,  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  influences  that  was  brought  to  bear  on  her. 
She  just  as  good  as  told  me  so.  I  s'pose  she  felt 
awfully  to  lose  me ;  but  she  bore  up  under  it  better 
than  I  thought  she  would.  I  thought  like  as  not  she 
would  break  completely  down  under  it." 

"  Wall,"  says  1,  tryin'  my  best  to  chirk  him  up, 
"  there  was  Mahala  Grimshaw,  and  Martha  Ann 
Snyder,  and  Jane  Boden,  and  Serena  Rumsey,  and 
Serepta  Mandagool." 

"  Them  girls  was  sorry  enough,  when  it  was  too 
late.  They  lost  me,  every  one  of  them  girls  did,  by 


THE  DESERTED. 


65 


puttin'  on  airs  and  pre- 
tendin'  not  to  want  me. 
Pretendin'  to  make  fun 
of  me,  jest  for  an  out- 
side show.  I  see  right 
through  it.  But  I  took 
'em  at  their  word,  and 
when  they  said  they 
wouldn't  have  me,  I  jest 
left  'em,  and  paid  no 
attention  to  what  they 
suffered  after  I  left. 
Sometimes  I  have 
thought  that  mebby  I 
was  too  harsh  with  'em, 
to  punish  'em  so  ;  but  I 
did  it,  and  I'd  do  it  agin 
if  it  was  to  do  over. 
They  no  need  to  have 
been  so  deceitful.  They 
might  expect  to  suffer 
for  it,  and  I  am  glad 
they  did." 

"  There  was  Nabby 
Ellis,"  says  I  dreamily. 

"Oh,  Nabby  was  all 
right.  It  was  envy  and 
jealousy  that  broke  that 

up.      Sam  Larkins    jest 
3* 


66  NABBY  ALL  RIGHT. 

filled  her  ears  about  me,  I  know  he  did ;  if  he  hadn't, 
and  hadn't  married  her  himself,  Nabby  would  have 
gin  her  ears  to  have  had  me.  I  think  she  thinks  more 
of  me  to  day  than  she  does  of  Sam ;  but  I  keep  out  of 
her  way  all  I  can ;  I  don't  want  to  harrow  up  her 
feelin's.  I  am  a  young  man  of  principle,  if  there  ever 
was  one. 

"  Now  I  know  of  several  married  wimmeu  that  I  am 
obleeged  to  treat  cool  and  distant,  for  their  own  good. 
What  good  would  it  do  me  ?  "  says  he,  knittin'  up  his 
eyebrows  agin. 

"  What  good  could  it  do  me  for  a  lot  of  married 
wimmen  to  get  over  head  and  ears  in  love  with  me  ? 
They  know  they  can't  get  me.  And  though  they  may 
feel  hurt  at  my  coldness  at  the  time,  when  they  come 
to  thinlt  it  over  they  must  know  I  am  actin'  for  their 
good  in  the  long  run,  by  bein'  cold  and  distant  to  'em, 
and  tryin'  my  best  to  wean  'em  from  me. 

"  Some  young  men  don't  seem  to  have  no  idee  or 
care  about  the  sufferin'  they  cause  on  every  side  of  'em. 
They  will  trample  right  round  over  female  hearts,  as 
if  there  wusn't  no  more  feelin'  in  'em  than  in  tan 
bark,  and  as  if  it  didn't  hurt  'em  and  bruise  'em  to 
tread  on  'cm.  But  it  haint  my  way.  I  don't  think  a 
young  man  can  be  too  careful  about  such  things. 
Why,  I  am  so  careful  and  conscientious  that  if  I 
thought  it  was  necessary  for  females'  peace  of  mind, 
and  the  good  of  surroundin'  wimmen,  I  would  be 
willin'  to  wear  a  veil  over  my  face  the  hull  time." 


GUIDED  BY  PRINCIPLE. 


67 


I  looked  him  full  and  keen  in  the  face,  over  the  top 
of  my  specks,  and  told  him  calmly  that  I  didn't  think 
it  was  necessary. 

"  Wall,"  says  he,  "  I  am  jest  that  tender-hearted, 
that  I  would  do  it. 
I  am  too  tender- 
hearted  for  my 
own  good.  I  know 
that  very  well. 
Now  I  want  to 
get  married,  I 
want  to  badly ; 
but  there  them 
two  reasons  stand, 
right  in  front  of 
me,  headin'  me 
off.  It  haint  the 
expense  of  keepin' 
a  wife  that  holds 
me  back,  for  I 
could  more  than 
make  her  pay  her 
way,  doin'  the 
housework  for  fa- 
ther and  me  and 
five  workmen.  No,  it  is  clear  principle  that  is  headin' 
me  off.  I  may  get  reckless  after  a  while." 

Says  he,  with  a  sort  of  a  bitter  mean  onto  him :  "  I 
may  get  so  carried  away  with  some  girl's  looks,  and  so 


PAYIN'  HER  WAY. 


68  A  SORROWFUL  RIDE, 

hankerin'  after  matrimony,  that  I  shall  forget  my  con 
science  and  principle,  and  slash  right  in  and  marry 
her,  and  let  the  other  wimmen  go  to  wrack  and  ruin. 
But  then  agin  when  I  think  what  the  consequences 
would  probable  be,  why  then  I  tremble." 

And  he  kinder  shook  some  as  if  he  had  a  chill. 

Says  he:  "When  I  think  of  Jane  Softer  Burpy. 
When  I  think  what  my  feelin's  was  as  I  drove  her 
hearse  to  the  buryin'-ground.  When  I  think  how  I 
felt  durin'  that  ride — why,  I  think  I  will  never  meddle 
again  with  any  women,  in  any  way,  shape,  nor  man- 
ner. When  I  think  how  she  wilted  right  down  like  a 
untimely  flower  cut  down  by  the  destroyer." 

"Why,"  says  I,  "she  died  with  a  bile;  that  was 
what  ailed  her, — a  carbuncle  on  her  back." 

"  Yes,"  says  he,  with  a  unbelievin'  look  on  his  face, 
«'•  so  the  doctors  said ;  so  the  cold  world  said.  But  I 
think  it  was  sunthin'  deeper." 

"  Why,"  says  I,  "  a  bile  couldn't  go  no  deeper  than 
her'n  went.  It  was  dreadful.  It  was  the  death  of 
her." 

Says  he :  "  I  have  always  had  my  own  idee  of  what 
ailed  her.  I  know  what  that  idee  is,  and  I  know  what 
a  guilty  conscience  is.  I  wuzn't  careful  enough.  I 
didn't  mean  no  harm  to  her,  Heaven  knows  I  didn't. 
But  I  wuzn't  careful  enough.  I  boarded  two  weeks 
with  her  mother  the  spring  before  she  died.  And  I 
can  see  now  where  I  missed  it,  where  I  did  wrong.  I 
wuzn't  offish  enough  to  her.  I  treated  her  too  friendly. 


HOW  JANE   WAS   ROPED   IN. 


ONGUARDED  MOMENTS. 


71 


I  was  off  my  guard,  and  didn't  notice  how  my  attrac- 
tions was  bein'  too  much  for  her. 

"I  paid  her  little  attentions  to  the  table,  such  as 
passin'  her  the  mashed-up  potatoes  and  the  beans.  I 
talked  with  her, 
more  or  less . 
Once  L  helped  her 
hang  out  the 
clothes-line.  I 
brought  her  letters 
from  the  post-office. 
Twice  I  helped 
her  into  a  wagon. 
I  was  onguarded. 
I  think  then  was 
the  time  I  give  her 
her  death-blow." 

And  oh !  what  a 
harrowin'  and  re- 
morseful look  he 
did  cast  into  that 
wood-box,  as  he 
said  this. 

"  She  died  in  the  fall.  And  my  feelin's  durin'  that 
fall  I  shall  never  forget.  If  that  thing  should  happen 
agin,  and  my  feelin's  prey  on  me  as  they  preyed  then, 
I  couldn't  stand  it  through  more  than  seven  or  eight 
more  such  cases.  I  know  I  couldn't.  I  have  been 
careful  since  then.  When  I'm  obliged  to  board  now 


THE  DEATH  BLOW. 


72  WHERE  THE  STICK  IS. 

I  don't  board  in  any  house  where  there  is  a  woman 
under  seventy-five  years  of  age.  And  sometimes  I  am 
most  afraid  it  is  resky  then. 

And  agin  he  looked  as  gloomy  at  that  wood-box  as  I 
ever  see  a  box  looked  at.  And  he  waited  a  minute  or 
two.  Mebby  he  waited  for  me  to  say  sunthin'  but  I 
didn't  say  it,  and  he  kep'  on : 

"  Several  times  sense  that  I  have  started  up,  and 
thought  that  I  would  marry  anyway,  and  leave  the 
result.  But  it  has  seemed  to  be  broke  up  every  time 
providential,  and  I'd  make  up  my  mind  in  the  end  not 
to  have  'em.  But  after  awhile  agin  I  will  start  up, 
and  almost  make  my  mind  up,  that  marry  I  will,  no 
matter  what  the  result  may  be.  But  there  it  is  agin ; 
I  am  too  tender-hearted.  That  is  where  the  stick  is 
with  me.  I  know  jest  how  skurce  men  are,  and  how 
wimmen  feel  towards  'em.  I  know  jest  how  they  get 
their  minds  sot  on  'em,  and  how  they  feel  to  loose  'em. 
I  have  got  principle,  Josiah  Allen's  wife.  I  am  prin- 
ciple clear  to  the  back-bone." 

"  Wall,"  says  I,  "  I  don't  know  but  you  be.  I  can't 
dispute  you,  not  knowin'  how  it  is." 

"  It  may  end,"  says  he,  with  a  bitter  look  at  the 
woman  over  the  wood-box,  "  it  may  end  by  my  not 
marryin'  at  all.  But  if  I  don't  marry,  where  will  the 
blame  lie?" 

Says  he,  speakin'  up  louder  and  more  excited  than 
he  had  spoke  up : 

"I  have  been  blamed;   blamed  in  public  places; 


SHIRKING  HIS  DUTY.  73 

right  in  the  grocery,  and  on  the  post-office  steps; 
blamed  by  the  trustees  of  the  public  school ;  blamed 
by  the  old  man  that  keeps  the  children's  toy-store; 
blamed  by  the  census  man  for  shiftlessness,  and  slack- 
ness, in  not  increasin'  the  population. 

"But  where  does  the  blame  rest?  Is  it  with  me,  or 
with  the  wimmen  that  act  so  like  furyation  that  it  is 
impossible  for  me  to  make  a  choice  amongst  'em  ? 

"  If  I  should  tell  them  men  that  the  reason  I  had 
lived  along,  year  after  year,  without  marryin'  was  that 
I  was  so  tender-hearted,  they  would  laugh  at  me." 

"I  hain't  a  doubt  of  it,"  says  I  heartily  and  decid- 
edly. 

"Yes,  they  would  hoot  at  me,  so  little  can  they 
enter  into  such  a  heart  as  mine.  But  I  can't  always 
live  along  in  this  way.  Some  day  there  may  be  a 
change.  I  give  wimmen  warnin'  that  there  may  be." 

And  so  he  went  on  for  two  hours,  if  it  was  a  min- 
ute. Repeatin'  it  over  and  over  agin,  till  I  was  as  sick 
as  a  dog  of  hearin'  of  it.  But  knowin'  he  was  talkin'  to 
me  in  confidence,  I  didn't  want  to  come  right  out  plain, 
and  tell  him  what  I  thought  of  him.  But  I  was  glad 
enough  when  he  got  through  and  started  off  of  his 
own  accord. 

But  since  Kitty  come  he  has  been  to  our  house  more 
than  ever.  He  has  acted  crazy  as  a  loon  about  her. 
Though  true  to  his  principle,  he  asked  Josiah  the  other 
day,  "if  consumption  run  in  her  family,  and  if  he 


LITERARY  FEASTS. 


thought  it  would  go  too  hard  with  her  if  he  didn't 

make  up  his  mind  to  marry  her." 

Old  Cobb  is  well  off,  but 
he  and  Kellup  works  hard, 
and  fares  hard.  They  stent 
themselves  on  clothes,  and  I 


don't    s'pose    they  allow 

themselves  hardly  enough 

to  eat  and   drink.      And 

all  the  literary  feasts  and 

recreations  they  allow  themselves  is  to  set  round  in 

stores  and  groceries,  on  dry-goods  boxes  and  butter- 


A  JUDGMENT  SEAT. 


A  TUCKERIN'  JOB.  75 

tubs,  a-findin'  fault  with  the  government,  spittin' 
tobacco-juice  at  the  stove,  and  fixin'  the  doom  of  sin- 
ners. Kellup  is  harder  on  'em  than  the  old  man  is. 
Old  Cobb  thinks  there  won't  be  more'n  half  the  world 
saved ;  Kellup  thinks  there  won't  be  more  than  a  quar- 
ter, if  there  is  that. 

They  argue  powerful.  Have  come  to  hands  and 
blows  frequent.  And  once  Kellup  knocked  the  old 
man  down,  he  was  so  mad  and  out  of  patience  to  think 
the  old  man  couldn't  see  as  he  see  about  the  Judgment. 
You  know  there  is  sights  and  sights  said  on  that  sub- 
ject now  and  wrote  on  it ;  and  Kellup  and  the  old  man 
will  borrow  books  and  papers  that  are  wrote  on  it, 
some  on  one  side  and  some  on  the  other,  and  then 
they'll  quarrel  agin  over  them.  And  they've  tried  to 
draw  me  into  their  arguments  time  and  agin.  But  I 
have  told  'em  that  I  was  a  master  hand  to  work  where 
I  was  needed  most,  and  I  didn't  seem  to  be  needed  so 
much  a  judgin'  the  world,  and  settlin'  on  jest  how 
many  was  a  goin'  to  be  saved  or  lost,  as  I  did  a  mindin' 
my  own  business,  and  tryin'  to  read  my  own  title  clear 
to  mansions  in  the  skies.  Says  I :  "  I  find  it  a  tuck- 
erin'  job  to  take  care  of  one  sinner  as  she  ort  to  be 
took  care  of,  and  it  would  make  me  ravin'  crazy  if  I 
had  to  take  care  of  the  hull  universe." 

It  fairly  makes  me  out  of  patience,  when  there  is  so 
much  work  our  Master  sot  for  us  to  do  for  His  sake,  it 
fairly  makes  me  mad  to  see  folks  refuse  to  do  a  mite 
of  that  work,  but  tackle  jobs  they  hain't  sot  to  tackle. 


76  OUR  TRUE  BUSINESS. 

Why,  the  Lord  don't,  like  a  good  many  human  bein's, 
ask  impossibilities  of  us.  He  only  wants  us  to  do  the 
best  we  can  with  what  we  have  got  to  do  with,  and  He 
will  help  us.  He  never  refused  help  to  a  earnest, 
strugglin'  soul  yet.  But  He  don't  calculate  nor  expect 
us  to  judge  the  world,  I  know  He  don't.  Why,  our 
Saviour  said,  in  that  hour  when  it  seemed  as  if  the 
God  and  the  man  was  both  speakin'  from  a  heart  full 
of  a  human  longin'  for  love  and  a  divine  pity  and 
tenderness  for  sorrowful  humanity, — He  said,  "  If  you 
love  me,  feed  my  sheep."  He  said  it  twice  .over, 
earnest  and  impressive.  He  meant  to  have  it  heard 
and  understood.  And  once  He  said,  scemin'ly  so 
afraid  the  childern  wouldn't  be  took  care  of,  "  Feed 
my  lambs."  That  is  a  good  plain  business,  tryin'  to 
feed  them  every  way,  doin'  our  best  to  satisfy  all  their 
hunger,  soul  and  body.  That  is  the  work  He  wants 
us  to  do,  but  He  never  gave  a  hint  that  He  wanted  us 
to  judge  the  world.  But  He  said  out  plain  and  square 
more'n  once,  '•'•Judge  not."  Then  what  makes  folks 
try  to  do  it  ?  What  makes  'em  pass  right  by  flocks 
and  flocks  of  sheeps  needy  and  perishin'  every  way, 
pass  right  by  these  little  lambs  of  Christ,  hungry  and 
naked,  stumblin'  right  over  'cm  without  pickin'  of  'em 
up?  Why,  they  might  fall  right  over  quantities  of 
dead  sheeps  and  dyin'  lambs,  and  not  know  it,  they 
are  so  rampent  and  determined  on  tacklin'  jobs  they 
hain't  sot  to  tackle,  crazy  and  sot  on  judgin'  the 
world. 


A  MOMENTIOUS  QUESTION.  77 

Why,  everybody  says  they  never  did  see  such  a  time 
as  it  is  now  for  arguin'  and  fightin'  back  and  forth  on 
that  subject.  Why,  the  papers  are  full  of  it.  "  Is 
there  a  Hell  ? "  And  "  How  deep  is  it  ? "  And  "  How 
many  are  agoin'  there?"  And  "How  long  are  they 
agoin'  to  stay?"  Books  are  wrote  on  it,  and  lectures 
are  lectured,  and  sermons  are  preached  on  both  sides 
of  the  Atlantic ;  and  Kellup  and  his  father  are  by  no 
means  the  only  ones  who  get  mad  as  hornets  if  any- 
body disputes  'em  in  their  views  of  the  Judgment. 

But  I  am  glad  enough  that  I  don't  feel  that  way,  for 
it  would  make  me  crazy  as  a  loon  if  I  thought  I  was 
sot  to  judge  one  soul,  let  alone  the  universe. 

Why,  how  under  the  sun  would  I  go  to  work  to 
judge  that  one  soul,  and  do  it  right  ?  I  could  see  some 
of  the  outward  acts,  ketch  glimpses  of  the  outside  self. 
But  how  could  I  unlock  that  secret  door  that  shuts  in 
the  real  person, — how  could  I  get  inside  that  door  that 
the  nearest  and  the  dearest  never  peeked  through,  that 
God  only  holds  the  key  to — the  secret  recesses  of  the 
immortal  soul — and  behold  the  unspeakable,  the  soarin' 
desires,  and  yearnin's,  and  divine  aspirations — the  good 
and  true  intentions — the  dreams  and  visions  of  immor- 
tal beauty,  and  purity,  and  goodness — and  the  secret 
thoughts  that  are  sin — the  unfolded  scarlet  buds  of 
wrong,  and  the  white  folded  buds  of  purity  and  holy- 
nesses,  each  waiting  for  the  breath  of  circumstance,  of 
change,  and  what  we  call  chance,  to  unfold  and  blos- 
som into  beauty  or  hejusness?  How  could  my  eyes 


78  A  MYSTERIOUS  SOUL. 

see  if  I  should  put  on  'em  the  very  strongest  spectacles 
earthly  wisdom  could  make — how  could  they  behold 
all  the  passion  and  the  glory,  the  despair  and  the 
rapture,  the  winge'd  hopes  and  faiths,  the  groveling, 
petty  fears  and  cares,  the  human  and  the  divine,  the 
eternal  wonder  and  mystery  of  a  soul? 

And  if  I  could  once  ketch  a  glimpse  of  this — that  I 
never  shall  see,  nor  nobody  else — if  I  could  once  get 
inside  the  mystery  of  a  mind,  how  could  I  judge  it 
right  ?  How  could  I  go  to  work  at  it  ?  How  could  I 
tackle  it?  Good  land,  it  makes  me  sweat  jest  to  think 
on't.  How  could  I  test  the  strength  of  that  mighty 
network  of  resistless  influences  that  draws  that  soul 
by  a  million  links  up  toward  Goodness  and  down 
toward  Evil — binds  it  to  the  outside  world,  and  the 
spiritual  and  divine  ?  How  could  I  get  a  glimpse  of  that 
unseen  yet  terrible  chain  of  circumstances,  the  inevit- 
able, that  wraps  that  soul  almost  completely  round? 
How  could  I  ever  weigh,  or  get  the  right  heft  if  I  could 
weigh  'em,  of  all  the  individual  tendencies,  inherited 
traits,  sins,  and  goodnesses  that  press  down  upon  that 
soul  ?  How  could  I  tell  how  the  affections,  powerful 
critters  as  I  ever  see,  was  a  drawin'  it  one  way,  and 
where  ?  and  how  fur  ?  And  ambitions  and  worldly 
desires,  how  they  was  a  hawlin'  it  another  way,  and 
where  to  ?  and  when  ?  How  true,  noble  aims  and  holy 
desires  was  pushin'  it  one  way,  and  ignoble  impulses, 
petty  aims  and  littleness,  self-seekin',  and  vainglory 
was  givin'  it  a  shove  the  other  way  ?  Good  land !  if  I 


FALSE  STEPS.  79 


could  see  all  these,  and  see  'em  plain — which  no  one 
ever  can  or  will — but  if  I  could,  how  could  I  ever  sort 
'em  out,  and  mark  'em  with  their  right  name  and  heft, 
and  calculate  how  far  they  was  a  drawin'  and  a  influ- 
encin'  that  soul,  and  how  fur  it  had  power  to  resist? 
How  could  the  eyes  of  my  spectacles  ever  see  jest 
how  fur  down  into  the  depths  of  that  soul  shone  the 
Divine  Ideal,  the  holy,  stainless  image  of  what  we 
pray  to  be, — and  jest  how  fur  the  mists  that  rise  up 
from  our  earthly  soil  darken  and  blind  that  light? 
Good  land !  I  couldn't  do  it,  nor  Josiah,  nor  nobody. 

We  are  blind  creeters,  the  fur-seein'est  of  us  ;  weak 
creeters,  when  we  think  we  are  the  strong-mindedest. 
Now,  when  we  hear  of  a  crime,  it  is  easy  to  say  that 
the  one  who  committed  that  wrong  stepped  flat  off 
from  goodness  into  sin,  and  should  be  hung.  It  is  so 
awful  easy  and  sort  o'  satisfactory  to  condemn  other 
folks'es  faults  that  we  don't  stop  to  think  that  it  may 
be  that  evil  was  fell  into  through  the  weakness  and 
blindness  of  a  mistake.  Jest  as  folks  fall  down  sul- 
ler  lots  of  times  a  gropin'  round  in  the  dark  tryin' 
to  find  the  outside  door,  and  can't.  Doin'  their  best 
to  get  out  where  it  is  lighter,  out  into  the  free  air  of 
Heaven,  and  first  they  know,  entirely  unbeknown  to 
them,  they  open  the  wrong  door,  and  there  they  are 
down  suller,  dark  as  pitch,  and  mebby  with  a  sore  and 
broken  head. 

And  if  a  wrong  is  done  wilfully,  with  a  purpose,  it 
is  easy  to  think  of  nothin'  but  the  wrong,  and  not  give 


80  THE  ALL-SEEING  EYE. 

a  thought  to  what  influences  stood  behind  that  soul, 
a  pushin'  it  off  into  sin.  Early  influences,  sinful 
teachin's  drunk  down  eagerly  before  the  mind  could 
seperate  the  evil  from  the  good.  Criminal  inherit- 
ances of  depraved  tastes,  and  wayward  and  distorted 
intellect,  wretched,  depressing  surroundings,  lack  of  all 
comfort,  hope,  faith  in  God  or  man,  ignorance,  blind 
despair,  all  a  standin'  behind  that  soul  pushin'  it  for- 
ward into  a  crime.  And  then  when  we  read  of  some 
noble,  splendid  act  of  generosity,  our  souls  burn  within 
us,  and  it  is  easy  to  say,  the  one  who  did  that  glorious 
deed  should  be  throned  and  crowned  with  honor — not 
thinkin'  how,  mebby  unbeknown  to  us,  that  act  was 
the  costly  and  glitterin'  varnish  coverin'  up  a  whited 
sepulchre.  That  deed  was  restin'  on  self-seekin', 
ambitious  littleness. 

Yes,  we  are  blind  creeters.  And  there  is  but  One 
who  holds  the  key  to  the  terror,  the  glory,  and  the 
mystery  of  a  soul.  He,  only,  can  see  and  judge.  He 
whose  age  is  ageless,  and  who  can  therefore  alone 
judge  of  the  mighty  flood  of  influences  that  pour  down 
upon  the  soul  from  that  ageless  past,  swayin'  it  with 
mysterious  power.  He  whose  life  fills  that  boundless 
future — Eternity — He  alone  knows  the  strength  of 
those  mighty  forces  drawin'  us  thither.  He  who  sees 
the  unseen — whose  eyes  can  alone  pierce  the  clouds 
that  close  so  dark  about  us,  and  behold  the  host 
of  shadowy  forms  that  surround  us  on  every  side, 
angels  and  demons,  things  present,  things  to  come, 


THE  LOVING  ONE.  81 

life,  and  death,  and  every  other  creature — He  only 
knows  their  power  over  us.  He  who  alone  knows  the 
meaning  of  life,  the  mystery  of  our  creation.  And  all 
that  keeps  me  from  bein'  ravin'  distracted  in  even 
meditatin'  on  this  is  to  calm  myself  down  on  this 
thought,  that  there  is  One  who  knows  all.  And  He 
alone  can  judge  of  what  He  alone  can  see.  He,  the 
just  and  loving  One,  will  do  right  with  the  souls  He 
made. 

Why,  if  I  didn't  lean  up  against  that  thought,  and 
lean  heavy,  I  should  tottle  and  wobble  round  to  that 
extent  that  I  should  fall  to  pieces — be  a  perfect  wrack 
and  ruin  in  no  time.  And  another  thought  that  gives 
me  sights  of  comfort  is,  He  don't  need  none  of  my 
help  in  judgin'  the  world.  And  if  I  was  ever  glad  of 
anything  in  my  life,  I  am  glad  of  that.  Why,  in  my 
opinion,  it  is  irreverent,  the  very  height  of  audacity,  to 
dare  to  affirm  what  shall  be  the  doom  of  a  single  soul. 

Then  to  think  of  the  countless  millions  on  earth, 
and  who  sleep  in  its  bosom — and  the  countless,  count- 
less worlds  that  fill  endless  and  boundless  space, 
the  unnumbered  hosts  of  the  ageless  past,  and  the 
endless  future — the  Eternity — and  jest  to  speak  that 
word  almost  takes  away  my  breath — and  then  to  think 
of  us,  poor,  blind  little  aunts,  on  a  aunt-hill,  deciding 
on  this  mighty  mystery,  writin'  books,  preachin'  ser- 
mons, givin'  lectures,  one  way  and  another,  judgin' 
the  fate  of  these  souls,  and  where  they  are  goin'  to, 
and  quarrelin'  over  it.  In  my  opinion  it  would  be 


82  GETTIN'  ONE'S  NAME  UP. 

better  for  us  to  spend  some  of  the  breath  we  waste  in 
this  way  in  prayer  to  Him  who  is  Mighty,  for  help  in 
right  living.  Or,  if  we  can't  do  any  better  with  it,  let 
us  spend  a  very  little  of  it,  mebby  $  of  it,  in  coolin' 
porridge  for  the  starvin'  ones  right  round  us ;  that 
would  be  better  than  to  spend  it  as  we  do  do,  in 
beatin'  the  air,  quarrelin'  on  who  is  goin'  to  be  saved, 
and  how  many.  Them's  my  idees,  but,  howsomever, 
everybody  to  their  own  mind.  But  good  land !  I  am 
a  eppisodin',  and  a  eppisodin',  beyond  the  patience  of 
anybody.  And  to  resoom  and  proceed : 

As  I  was  a  sayin'  of  Kellup  and  his  father,  I  s'pose 
there's  lots  of  things  said  about  'em  that  there  hain't 
no  truth  in.  Now  I  don't  believe  that  they  chaw 
spruce-gum  for  dinner,  and  eat  snow  and  icicles  in  the 
time  of  'em — not  to  make  a  stiddy  practice  of  it. 
Why,  they  couldn't  stand  it,  not  for  any  length  of  time. 
But  you  know  when  anybody  gets  their  name  up  for 
any  particular  thing,  it  is  dretful  easy — don't  take 
hardly  a  mite  of  strength — to  histe  it  up  a  little  higher. 
But  I  see  this  myself,  with  my  own  eye. 

Last  Thanksgivin'  I  was  in  the  meat-shop  to  Jones- 
ville,  a  buyin'  a  turkey,  and  some  lamb,  and  oysters, 
and  things.  I  was  goin'  to  have  the  childern  home  to 
dinner.  And  Kellup  come  in,  and  said  his  father 
thought  it  was  such  hard  times  they  wouldn't  try  to 
keep  Thanksgivin'  this  year.  But  he  told  his  father  it 
showed  a  ungrateful  heart  for  all  the  mercies  and  ben- 
efits that  had  been  bestowed  on  'em  durin'  the  year, 


A  THANKSGIVING  DINNER. 


83 


and  it  was  settin'  a  bad  example  to  sinners  round  'em 
to  not  celebrate  it ;  so  he  had  carried  the  day,  and  they 
was  goin'  to  swing  right  out,  and  buy  half  a  pound  of 
fresh  beef,  and  celebrate. 

And  he  bought  it,  and  beat  the  butcher  half  a  cent 
on  that.    I  think  myself  that  he  is  as  tight  as  the  bark 


Rl! 


SWINGIN*  OUT. 


But 


to  a  tree,  but  I  don't  believe  he  is  any  tighter, 
they  say  he  is  as  tight  agin. 

Like  myself  and  Josiah,  Kellup  is  a  member  of  the 
Methodist  meetin'-house.  And  he  is  a  dretful  case  to 
exhort  other  folks.  And  jest  like  them  that  don't  do 
nothin'  themselves,  that  never  did  a  noble,  generous 


84  KELLUP  A3  A  EXIIOKTER. 

act  in  their  lives,  he  is  a  great  case  to  talk  about  other 
folks'es  duty.  And  jest  like  them  that  are  too  stingy 
to  draw  a  long  breath  for  fear  of  wearin'  out  their 
lungs,  he  is  a  great  case  to  talk  about  other  folks'es 
givin'. 

If  anybody  has  decent  clothes  and  vittles,  he  is 
always  talkin'  about  their  extravagance,  and  how  much 
they  could  do  for  the  sufferin'  poor  round  'em  with 
the  money.  And  a  man  could  starve  to  death  right 
on  the  road  in  front  of  him,  and  all  he  would  do  would 
be  to  stop  that  hearse,  and  exhort  him  from  the  top 
of  it.  Not  a  cent  would  he  give  if  the  man  died  right 
there  in  under  the  hearse.  I  despise  such  Christians, 
and  I  always  shall;  and  there  are  lots  of  'em  all  round 
us,  who  are  always  talkin'  about  workin'  for  Christ, 
and  all  the  work  they  do  is  with  their  tongues.  I  say 
such  religion  is  vain ;  empty  as  tingliu'  brass,  and 
soundin'  thimbles. 

From  the  time  he  wore  roundabouts,  Kcllup's  father 
promised  him  that  jest  as  quick  as  he  got  big  enough 
he  should  drive  that  hearse,  and  it  has  lifted  him  up, 
that  hearse  has,  and  always  made  him  feel  above  the 
other  boys.  He  has  always  seemed  to  think  that  was 
the  highest  station  in  life  he  could  get  up  onto.  We 
all  think  that  the  reason  he  comes  to  see  Kitty  on  it, 
is  he  thinks  he  looks  more  stately  and  imposin'  on  it 
than  he  would  walkin'  afoot.  And  when  the  childern, 
the  little  Jonesvillians,  hoot  at  him,  and  make  all 
manner  of  fun  of  him,  lie  thinks  they  envy  him,  and  it 


A   COUUJ)   WITHOUT   COKN. 


GREAT  FUN  FOR  KITTY. 


87 


makes  him  act  haughtier  than  ever,  and  more  proud- 
spirited, and  stiff-necked. 

As  I  say,  I  feel  bad,  and  I  take  Kitty  to  do  about  it 
every  time  I  see 
her  a'most.    And 
she'll  say: 

"Oh,  Auntie! 
it  is  too  rich  ! " 

And  she'll 
laugh,  and  kiss 
me,  and  coax  me 
not  to  be  cross 
about  it,  till  she 
makes  most  as 
big  a  fool  of  me 
as  she  does  of 
Kellup,  and  I  tell 
her  so. 

But  I  stand 
firm,  and  try  to 
make  her  feel  a 
realizin'  sense 
how  it  looks  to  have  a  hearse  standin'  round  pro- 
miscous  every  few  days,  hitched  to  our  front  gate. 
It  is  a  solemn  thing  to  me.  And  would  be  to 
anybody  who  looked  at  things  serious  and  solemn. 
Most  every  subject  has  several  sides  to  it,  and  some 
has  more'n  20.  And  folks  ort  to  tutor  themselves  to 
hold  a  subject  right  up  in  their  hands,  and  look  on 


KITTY'S  KISS. 


A  GOOD  JOB. 


every  side  of  it.  But  Kitty  don't  try  to.  The  humorous 
side  of  things  is  the  side  she  meditates  on.  And  she 
thinks  that  Kellup's  travelin'  round  after  her  on  that 
hearse  has  a  funny  side  to  it.  But  I  can't  see  it.  It 
is  a  solemn  thing  to  me  to  see  it  drive  up  to  our  gate 
any  time  o'  day,  and  be  hitched  there,  while  he  comes 
in  and  tries  to  court  her.  Why,  it  looks  fairly  wicked 
to  me,  and  I  tell  her  so.  And  then  she'll  giggle  and 
laugh,  and  make  a  perfect  fool  of  Kellup.  Or,  that  is, 
improve  on  the  job ;  for  truly  Nater  helped  her  power- 
ful at  his  birth.  Nater  did  a  good  job  in  that  line — 
in  the  fool  line.  Though  you  couldn't  make  him  think 
he  was  most  a  fool,  or  leanin'  heavy  that  way,  not  if 
you  should  drive  the  fact  into  his  head  with  a  hammer. 
It  is  one  of  the  hardest  things  in  the  world  to  make 
folks  believe.  They'll  own  up  to  bein'  a  fool  twice  as 
quick. 

But  as  I  say,  it  worries  me  most  to  death.  And 
there  is  only  jest  one  thing  that  keeps  me  from  comin' 
right  out  and  puttin'  a  stop  to  it,  and  tellin'  Kellup 
she  is  a  foolin'  of  him.  I  have  meditated  on  it  power- 
ful. And  sometimes  I  have  thought  that  he  needs 
such  a  affliction.  Sometimes  I  have  thought  that, 
bein'  so  overbearing  and  haughty,  and  big-feelin',  that 
such  a  takin'  down  is  what  lie  needs  to  lift  him  up 
(morally). 

But  though  that  principle  holds  up  my  spirit,  it  is  a 
hard  trial  to  my  spirit,  and  to  the  eye  of  my  spectacles. 
And  I'll  say  to  Josiah,  every  time  I  see  him  drive  up, 


WHAT  JOSIAH  KNEW.  89 

and  groan  loud  as  I  say  it :  "I  should  think  he'd  know 
better  than  to  go  a  courtin'  with  a  hearse." 

But  he  says:  "Keep  still;  it  don't  hurt  you  any, 
does  it?" 

That  man  enjoys  it.  He  has  wicked  streaks,  and  I 
tell  him  so.  And  says  I : 

"Josiah  Allen,  you  don't  seem  to  know  what  sol- 
emnity is,  or  what  wickedness  is." 

And  he  says:  "1  know  what  a  dumb  fool  is." 

And  that  is  all  the  help  I  caii  get.  And  I  s'pose  I 
shall  have  to  let  it  go  on.  But  I  feel  like  death  about 
it.  When  he  comes  here,  and  Kitty  don't  happen  to 
be  here,  he  will  always  begin  to  exhort  me  on  religion. 
He  is  the  disagreeablest,  self-righteousest  creeter  I 
ever  see,  and  that  I  won't  deny. 

"  Oh,"  says  he  to  me  yesterday — there  had  been  a 
funeral  up  by  here,  and  when  he  came  back  he  hitched 
the  hearse,  and  come  in.  And  he  began  to  exhort 
me,  and  says  he :  "I  have  been  a  thinkin'  of  it  all  day, 
— how  glad  I  am  that  salvation  is  free." 

I  felt  wore  out  with  him,  and  says  I :  "  Well  you 
may  be  glad.  For  if  it  wasn't  free,  you  wouldn't  have 
any — not  a  mite.  You  wouldn't  either  if  you  had  to 
pay  a  cent  for  it." 

Before  he  could  say  anything,  Kitty  come  in.  She 
had  been  out  to  the  barn  with  Josiah  to  feed  the  sheep. 
She  looked  like  a  blush-rose ;  her  eyes  a  dancin'  and 
a  sparklin'.  And  Kellup  acted  spoonier  than  any 
spoon  I  have  got  on  my  buttery  shelves. 


JOSIAH  GOES  INTO  BUSINESS. 

JOSIAH  Allen  has  got  a  sort  of  a  natural  hankerin' 
after  makin'  money  easy.  A  sort  of  a  spcculatiu' 
turn  to  his  mind,  which  most  men  have.  But  not  hav- 
in'  the  other  ingregiences  that  go  with  it  to  make  it  a 
success,  his  speculations  turn  out  awful,  2  episodes  of 
which  I  will  relate  and  set  down.  One  pleasant 
evenin'  Josiah  had  jest  got  back  from  carryin'  Kitty 
Smith  to  Tirzah  Ami's.  Tirzah  Ann  had  sent  for 
her  to  stay  a  spell  with  her.  And  Josiah  had  got 
back  and  put  the  horses  out,  and  sot  by  the  fire  a 
meditatin'  to  all  outward  appearance.  When  all  of  a 
sudden  he  broke  out  and  says : 
"  Samantha,  1  love  to  make  money  easy." 
"Do  you?"  says  I,  in  a  mechaniclc  way,  for  I  was 
bindin'  off  the  heel  of  a  sock  of  hisen,  and  my  mind 
was  sort  o'  drawed  out  by  that  heel,  and  strained. 

"Yes,"  says  he,  crossin'  his  legs, and  lookin'  dretful 
wise  at  me,  "  Yes,  1  love  to,  like  a  dog.  I  love  to 
kinder  speculate." 

(80) 


THE  FIRST  SPECULATION.  91 

I  had  bound  off  the  last  stitch,  and  my  mind  bein' 
free  it  soared  up  noble  agin,  and  I  says  firmly  and 
impressively : 

"  Good,  honest  hard  work  is  the  best  speculation  I 
ever  went  into,  Josiah  Allen." 

"Yes,"  says  he,  with  that  same  drctful  wise  look, 
"wimmen  naterally  feel  different  about  these  things. 
Wimmen  haint  got  such  heads  onto  'cm  as  we  men 
have  got.  We  men  love  to  make  money  by  a  speck. 
We  love  to  get  rich  by  head  work." 

I  jest  give  one  look  onto  his  bald  head,  a  strange, 
searchin'  look,  that  seemed  to  go  right  through  his 
brains  and  come  out  the  other  side.  I  didn't  say  any- 
thing, only  jest  that  look,  but  that  spoke  (as  it  were) 
loud. 

He  looked  kinder  meachin',  and  hastened  to  ex- 
plain. 

"I  am  goin'  to  fix  up  that  old  house  of  our'n, 
Samantha,  and  rent  it,"  says  he.  "I  am  goin'  to 
make  piles  and  piles  of  money  out  of  it,  besides  the 
comfort  we  can  take  a  ncighborin'."  "And,"  says  he, 
"I  love  to — to  neighbor,  Samantha — I  love  to  dcerly." 

Says  I  in  calm  tones,  but  firm:  "There  are  worse 
neighbors,  Josiah  Allen,  than  them  that  are  livin'  in 
the  old  house  now." 

"Livin'  there  now?"  says  he.  And  his'  eyes  stood 
out  from  I  to  a  £  a  inch  in  surprise  and  horrcr. 

"Yes,"  says  I,  "you'll  find,  Josiah  Allen,  that  take 
it  right  along  from  day  to  day,  and  from  year  to  year, 


92  WIMMEN'S  BRAINS. 

that  there  are  worse  creeters  to  neighbor  witli  than 
Peace,  and  Quiet,  and  Repose." 

"Dummit!  scare  a  man  to  death,  will  you?" 

Says  I:  "Stop  swearin'  to  once,  Josiah  Allen,  and 
instantly!" 

My  mean  was  lofty  and  scarcful,  and  he  stopped. 
But  he  went  on  in  a  firm  and  obstinate  axent :  "I  am 
determined  to  fix  up  that  house  and  rent  it.  Wimmen 
can't  see  into  business.  They  haint  got  the  brains  for 
it.  You  haint  to  blame  for  it,  Samantha,  but  you 
haint  got  the  head  to  see  how  profitable  I  am  goin'  to 
make  it.  And  then  our  nearest  neighbors  live  now 
well  onto  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away.  How  neat  it  will 
be  to  have  neighbors  right  here  by  us,  all  the  time, 
day  and  night."  And  agin  he  says  dreamily:  "If  I 
ever  loved  anything  in  this  world,  Samantha,  I  love  to 
neighbor." 

But  I  held  firm,  and  told  him  he'd  better  let  well 
enough  alone.  But  he  was  sot  as  sot  could  be,  and 
went  on  and  fixed  up  the  house.  It  was  a  old  house 
right  acrost  the  road  from  our'n.  One  that  was  on 
the  place  when  we  bought  it.  All  shackly  and  run 
down ;  nobody  had  lived  in  it  for  years.  And  I  knew 
it  wouldn't  pay  to  spend  money  on  it.  But  good  land! 
lie  wouldn't  hear  a  word  to  me.  He  went  on  a  fixin' 
it,  and  it  cost  him  nearer  a  hundred  dollars  than  it  did 
anything  else — besides  lamin'  himself,  and  blisterin' 
his  hands  to  work  on  it  himself,  and  fillin'  his  eyes 


JOSIAH  FEELS  NEAT. 


93 


with  plaster,  and  gettin' 
creeks  in  his  back,  a 
lif tin'  round  and  repairin'. 

Buthe  felt  neat  through 
it  all.  It  seemed  as  if  the 
more  money  he  laid  out, 
and  the  worse  he  got  hurt, 
the  more  his  mind  soared 
up,  a  lottin'  on  how  much 
money  he  was  goin'  to 
make  a  rentin'  it,  and 
what  a  beautiful  time  he 
was  a  goin'  to  enjoy  a 
neighborin'.  He  would 
talk  about  neighborin' 
most  the  hull  time  days, 
and  would  roust  me  up 
nights  if  he  happened  to 
think  of  any  new  and 
happiiyin'  idea  on  the 
subject.  Till  if  ever  I 
got  sick  of  any  word  in 
the  hull  dictionary,  I  got 
sick  of  that.  . 

Well,  jest  as  quick  as 
the  house  was  done,  and 
he  pushed  the  work  on 
rapid  and  powerful,  fairly 
drove  it,  he  was  in  such 


94  SECURING  A  TENANT. 

a  hurry,  nothin'  to  do  but  he  must  set  off  huntin'  up 
a  renter,  for  he  couldn't  seem  to  wait  a  minute.  I 
told  him  to  keep  cool.  Says  I  "  You'll  make  money 
by  it  if  you  do." 

But  no !  he  couldn't  wait  till  somebody  come  to  him. 
He  wouldn't  hear  a  word  to  me.  He'd  throw  wim- 
men's  heads  in  my  face,  and  say  they  was  week,  and 
wuzn't  like  men's.  He  was  so  proud  and  haughty 
about  the  speck  he  had  gone  into,  and  the  piles  and 
piles  of  money  he  was  goin'  to  make,  that  once  or 
twice  he  told  me  that  1  hadn't  no  head  at  all.  And 
then  he'd  hitch  up  the  old  mare,  and  go  off  a  huntin' 
round  and  enquirin'.  And  finally  one  day  he.  come 
home  from  Jonesville  tickled  to  death  seeminly. 
He'd  found  a  family  and  engaged  'em — Jonathan 
Spinks'es  folks.  They  was  to  Jonesville  a  stayin' 
with  Miss  Spinks'es  sister,  Sam  Thrasher's  wife,  and 
they  had  heerd  of  Josiah's  huntin'  round;  so  they 
hailed  him  as  he  was  a  goin'  by,  and  engaged  it,  made 
the  bargain  right  there  on  the  spot.  And  as  I  said, 
he  was  tickled  to  death  almost,  and  says  to  me  in  a 
highlarius  axent: 

"They  are  splendid  folks,  Samantha." 

Says  I  iji  very  cold  tones :  "Are  they  the  Spinkses 
that  used  to  live  to  Zoar?" 

"  Yes,"  says  he.  "And  they  are  a  beautiful  family, 
and  I  have  made  a  splendid  bargain.  50  dollars  a 
year  for  the  house  and  garden.  What  do  you  think 
now?  I  never  should  have  known  they  was  a  lookin' 


A  AGRAVATIN'  ACTION.  95 

for  a  house  if  I  hadn't  been  a  enquirin'  round.  What 
do  you  think  now  about  my  keepin'  cool?" 

Says  1  mildly,  but  firmly :  "  My  mind  haint  changed 
from  what  it  wuz  more  formally." 

"  Wall,  what  do  you  think  now  about  my  lettin'  the 
old  house  run  down,  when  I  can  make  50  dollars  a 
year,  clear  gain,  besides  more'n  three  times  that  in 
solid  comfort  a-neighberin'  ? " 

Says  I,  firm  as  a  rock,  "  My  mind  hain't  changed, 
Josiah  Allen,  so  much  as  the  width  of  a  horsehair." 

"  Wall,"  says  he,  "  I  always  said  wimmen  hadn't  no 
heads,  I  always  knew  it.  But  it  is  agravatin',  it  is 
dumb  agravatin',  when  anybody  has  done  the  head- 
work  I  have  done,  and  made  such  a  bargain  as  I  have 
made,  to  not  have  anybody's  wife  appreciate  it.  And 
I  should  think  it  was  about  time  to  have  supper,  if  you 
are  goin'  to  have  any  to-night." 

I  calmly  rose  aiicf  put  on  the  teakettle,  and  never 
disputed  a  word  with  him  whether  I  had  a  head  or 
not.  Good  land  !  I  knew  I  had  one,  and  what  was  the 
use  of  arguin'  about  it?  And  I  didn't  say  nothin' 
more  about  his  bargain,  for  I  see  it  wouldn't  do  no 
good.  'Twas  all  settled,  and  the  writin's  drawed. 
But  I  kep'  up  a  severe  thinkin'.  I  had  heard  of 
Spinks'es  folks  before.  It  had  come  right  straight 
to  me.  Miss  Ebenezer  Gowdey,  she  that  was  Nabby 
Widrick,  her  nephew's  wive's  step-mother,  old  Miss 
Tooler,  had  lived  neighber  to  'em.  And  Miss  Tooler 
told  Nabby,  and  Nabby  told  me,  that  they  was  shiftless 


96 


SMOKED  OUT. 


creeters.  But  when  bargains  are  all  made,  it  is  of  no 
use  tryin'  to  convince  Josiahs.  And  I  knew  if  I  should 
tell  Josiah  what  I  had  heard  he'd  only  go  to  arguin' 
agin  that  I  hadn't  no  head. 
So  I  didn't  say  nothin'. 
And  the  next  day  they 
moved  in.  It  seems  they 
had  brought  all  their 
things  to  Thrashers'es. 
They  said  the  house  they 
had  been  livin'  in  to  Zoar 
was  so  uncomfortable  they 
couldn't  stay 
in  it  a  day 
longer.  But 
we  heard  af- 
terwards— 
Miss  Tooler 
told  Nab  by 
Gowdey  with 
her  own  lips 
— that  they 
was  smoked 
out.  The 
m  an  th  at 
owned  the 
house  smoked 
'em  out  to  get 


ARRIVAL   OF   THE   SPINKSES. 


rid  of  'em. 


CALLIN'  ON  THE  SPINKSES.  97 

Wall,  as  I  said,  they  come.  Mr.  Spink,  his  wife, 
and  his  wife's  sister  (she  was  Irish),  and  the  childern. 
And  oh !  how  neat  Josiah  Allen  did  feel.  He  was 
over  there  before  they  had  hardly  got  sot  down,  and 
offered  to  do  anything  under  the  sun  for  'era,  and 
offered  'em  everything  we  had  in  the  house.  T, 
myself,  kep',  cool  and  collected  together.  Though  I 
treated  'em  in  a  liberal  way,  and  in  the  course  of 
two  or  three  days  I  made  'em  a  friendly  call,  and 
acted  well  towards  'em. 

But  instead  of  runnin'  over  there  the  next  day,  and 
two  or  three  times  a  day,  I  made  a  practice  of  stayin' 
to  home  considerable  ;  and  Josiah  took  me  to  do  for  it. 
But  I  told  him  I  treated  them  exactly  as  I  wanted 
them  to  treat  me.  Says  I,  "  A  mejum  course  is  the 
best  course  to  pursue  in  nearly  every  enterprise  in  life, 
neighberin'  especially.  I  begin  as  I  can  hold  out.  I 
lay  out  to  be  kind  and  friendly  to  'em,  but  I  don't 
intend  to  make  it  my  home  with  them,  nor  do  I  want 
them  to  make  it  their  home  with  me.  Once  in  two  or 
three  days  is  enough,  and  enough,  Josiah  Allen,  is  as 
good  as  a  feast." 

"Wall,"  says  he,  "if  I  ever  enjoyed  anything  in 
this  world  I  enjoy  neighberin'  with  them  folks.  And 
they  think  the  world  of  me.  It  beats  all  how  they 
worship  me.  The  childern  take  to  me  so,  they  don't 
want  me  out  of  their  sight  hardly  a  minute.  Spink 
and  his  wife  says  they  think  it  is  in  my  looks.  You 
know  I  am  pretty  lookin',  Samantha.  They  say  the 


98  A  ALLEGORY  ON  FRIENDSHIP. 

baby  will  cry  after  me  so  quick.  It  beats  all  what 
friends  we  have  got  to  be,  I  and  the  Spinkses,  and  it 
is  agravatin',  Samantha,  to  think  you  don't  seem  to 
feel  towards  'em  that  strong  friendship  that  I  feel." 

Says  I,  "  Friendship,  Josiah  Allen,  is  a  great  word. 
True  friendship  is  the  most  beautiful  thing  on  earth  ; 
it  is  love  without  passion,  tenderness  without  alloy. 
And,"  says  I,  soarin'  up  into  the  realm  of  allegory, 
where,  on  the  feathery  wings  of  pure  eloquence,  I 
fly  frequent,  "  Intimacy  hain't  friendship.  Two  men 
may  sleep  together,  year  after  year,  on  the  same 
feather-bed,  and  wake  up  in  the  mornin',  and  shake 
hands  with  each  other,  perfect  strangers,  made  so 
unbeknown  to  them.  And  feather-beds,  nor  pillers, 
nor  nothin'  can't  bring  'em  no  nigher  to  each  other. 
And  they  can  keep  it  up  from  year  to  year,  and  lock 
arms  and  prominade  together  through  the  day,  and 
not  get  a  mite  closer  to  each  other.  They  can  keep 
their  bodies  side  by  side,  but  their  souls,  who  can 
tackle  'em  together,  unless  nature  tackled  'em,  unbe- 
known to  them  ?  Nobody.  And  then,  agin,  two  per- 
sons may  meet,  comin'  from  each  side  of  the  world ; 
and  they  will  look  right  through  each  other's  eyes 
down  into  their  souls,  and  see  each  other's  image 
there;  born  so,  born  friends,  entirely  unbeknown  to 
them.  Thousands  of  milds  apart,  and  all  the  inspec- 
tions of  heaven  and  earth ;  all  the  influences  of  life, 
education,  joy,  and  sorrow,  has  been  fitting  them  for 


YOKED    BUT   NOT   MATED. 


A  FILISOFICAL  FACT.  1Q1 

each  other  (unbeknown  to  them):  twin  souls,  and  they 
not  knowin'  of  it." 

"Speakin'  of  twin — "  says  Josiah. 

But  I  was  soarin'  too  high  to  light  down  that 
minute.  So  1  kep'  on,  though  his  interruption  was 
a-lowerin'  me  down  gradual. 

"  There  is  a  great  filisofical  fact  right  here,  Josiah 
Allen,"  says  I,  tryin'  to  bring  down  and  fit  the  idee  to 
my  pardner.'s  comprehension,  for  it  is  ever  my  way  to 
try  to  convince,  as  well  as  to  soar  in  oritory.  "  You 
may  yoke  up  the  old  mare  and  the  brindle  cow 
together  and  drive  'em  year  after  year  in  a  buggy. 
But  you  can't  make  that  horse  into  a  cow,  or  make 
that  old  cow  whinner.  It  can't  be  done.  And  two 
wiminen  may  each  of  'em  have  half  a  shear,  and  think 
they  will  screw  'em  together  and  save  property,  and 
cut  some  with  'cm.  But  if  one  of  them  halves  is  2  or 
3  inches  shorter  than  the  other,  and  narrower,  how 
be  they  goin'  to  cut  with  'em  ?  All  the  screws  and 
wrenches  in  creation  can't  do  no  more  than  hold  'em 
together.  It  hain't  no  use  if  they  wuzn't  made  to  fit 
each  other  in  the  first  place,  unbeknown  to  them." 
Says  I,  "  Some  folks  are  j'ined  together  for  life  in  jest 
that  way,  drawn  together  by  some  sort  of  influence, 
worldly  considerations,  blind  fancy,  thoughtlessness, 
and  the  minister's  words  fasten  'em,  jest  as  these 
shears  was.  But  good  land !  after  the  vapory,  dreamy 
time  of  the  honeymoon  is  passed  through,  and  the 
heavy,  solid  warp  and  woof  of  life  lays  before  'em  for 


102 


A  TWIN  SOUL. 


them  to  cut  a  path  through  it,  they'll  find  out  whether 
they  fit  each  other  or  not.  And  if  they  don't,  it  is 
tejus  business  for  'em,  ex- 
tremely tejus,  and  they'll  find 
it  out  so."— "  Speakin'  of 
twin — "  says  Josiah. 

His  persistent   and  stiddy 


follerin'  up  of  his 
own  train  of 
thought,  and  the 
twin,  was  lowerin' 
me  down  now  aw- 
ful fast,  and  says  I, 
sort  o'  concludin' 
up,  "  Be  good  and 

kind  to  everybody,  and  Mr.  Spinks'es  folks,  as  you 
have  opportunity ;  but  before  you  make  bosom  friends 


JOSIAH  NEIGHBORS. 


MISS  SPINK  NEIGHBORS.  103 

of  'em,  wait  and  see  if  your  soul  speaks."  Says  I, 
^firmly,  "  Mine  don't,  in  this  case." 

"  Speakin'  of  twin,"  says  Josiah  agin,  "  Did  you 
ever  see  so  beautiful  a  twin  as  Mr.  Spinks'es  twin  is  ? 
What  a  pity  they  lost  the  mate  to  it !  Their  ma  says 
it  is  perfectly  wonderful  the  way  that  babe  takes  to 
me.  I  held  it  all  the  while  she  was  ironin',  this  fore- 
noon. And  the  two  boys  f oiler  me  round  all  day, 
tight  to  my  heels,  instead  of  their  father.  Spink  says 
they  think  I  am  the  prettiest  man  they  ever  see, 
almost  perfectly  beautiful." 

I  give  Josiah  Allen  a  look  full  in  his  face,  a  curious 
look,  very  searchin'  and  peculiar.  But  before  I  had 
time  to  say  anything,  only  jest  that  look,  the  door 
opened,  and  Spinks'es  wive's  sister  come  in  unex- 
pected, and  said  that  Miss  Spink  wanted  to  borrow 
the  loan  of  ten  pounds  of  side  pork,  a  fine  comb,  some 
flour,  the  dish-kettle,  and  my  tooth-brush." 

I  let  her  have  'em  all  but  the  tooth  brush,  for  I  was 
determined  to  use  'em  well.  And  Josiah  didn't  like 
it  at  all  because  I  didn't  let  that  go.  And  he  said  in 
a  fault-findin',  complainin'  axent  "that  I  didn't  seem 
to  want  to  be  sociable." 

And  I  told  him  that  "I  bought  borrowin'  a  tooth- 
brush was  a  little  too  sociable." 

And  he  most  snapped  my  head  off,  and  muttered 
about  my  not  bein'  neighborly,  and  that  I  didn't  feel  a 
mite  about  neighborin'  as  he  did.  And  I  made  a  vow, 
then  and  there  (inside  of  my  mind) ,  that  I  wouldn't 


104  A  KIND  LANDLORD. 

say  a  word  to  Josiah  Allen  on  the  subject,  not  if  they 
borrowed  us  out  of  house  and  home.  Thinkses  I,  I 
can  stand  it  as  long  as  he  can ;  if  they  spile  our  things, 
he  has  got  to  pay  for  new  ones;  if  they  waste  our 
property,  he  has  got  to  lose  it;  if  they  spile  our  com- 
fort, he's  got  to  stand  it  as  well  as  I  have ;  and,  know- 
in'  the  doggy  obstinacy  of  his  sect,  I  considered  this 
great  truth,  and  acted  on  it,  that  the  stiller  I  kep', 
and  the  less  I  said  about  'cm,  the  quicker  he'd  get 
sick  of  'cm ;  so  I  held  firm.  And  never  let  on  to 
Josiah  but  what  it  was  solid  comfort  to  me  to  have 
'em  there  all  the  time  a  most ;  and  not  have  a  minute 
I  could  call  my  own;  and  have  'cm  borrow  everything 
under  the  sun  that  ever  was  borrowed:  gardcn-sass  of 
all  kinds,  and  the  lookin'-glass,  groceries,  the  old  cat, 
vittlcs,  cookin'  utensils,  stove-pipe,  a  feather-bed,  bol- 
sters, bed-clothes,  and  the  New  Testament. 

They  even  borrowed  Josiah's  clothes.  Why,  Spink 
wore  Josiah's  best  pantaloons  more  than  Josiah  did. 
He  got  so  lie  didn't  act  as  if  lie  could  stir  out  without 
Josiah's  best  pantaloons.  He'd  keep  a  tellin'  that  he 
was  goin'  to  get  a  new  pair,  but  lie  didn't  get  'em,  and 
would  hang  onto  Josiah's.  And  Josiah  had  to  stay  to 
home  a  number  of  times*  jc^t  on  that  account.  And 
then  he'd  borrow  Josiah's  galluses.  Josiah  had  got 
kinder  run  out  of  galluses,  and  hadn't  got  but  one  pair 
of  sound  ones.  And  Josiah  would  have  to  pin  his 
pantaloons  onto  his  vest,  and  the  pins  would  lose  out, 
and  it  was  all  Josiah  could  do  to  keep  his  clothes  on. 


A  BAD  FIX.  105 


It  made  it  awful  bad  for  him.  I  know  one  day,  when  I 
had  a  lot  of  company,  I  had  to  wink  him  out  of  the 
room  a  number  of  times,  to  fix  himself  so  he  would  be 
decent.  But  all  through  it  I  kep'  still,  and  never  said 
a  word.  I  see  we  was  loosin'  property  fast,  and  had 
lost  every  mite  of  comfort  we  had  enjoyed,  for  there 
was  some  of  'em  there  every  minute  of  the  time,  a 
most,  and  some  of  the  time  two  or  three  of  'cm.  Why, 
Miss  Spink  used  to  come  over  and  eat  breakfast  with 
us  lots  of  times.  She'd  say  she  felt  so  mauger  that 
she  couldn't  eat  nothin'  to  home,  and  she  thought 
mebby  my  vittles  would  go  to  the  place.  And  besides 
losin'  our  property  and  comfort,  I'll  be  hanged  if  I 
didn't  think  sometimes  that  I  should  lose  my  pardner 
by  'em,  they  worked  him  so.  But  I  held  firm. 
Thinkses  I  to  myself,  it  must  be  that  Josiah  will  get 
sick  of  neighboring  after  a  while,  arid  start  'em  off. 
For  the  sufferiu's  that  man  endured  couldn't  never  be 
told  iior  sung. 

Why,  before  they  had  been  there  a  month,  as  I  told 
sister  Bamber, — she  was  to  our  house  a  visitiu',  and 
Josiah  was  in  the  buttery  a  churmn',  and  I  knew  he 
wouldn't  hear, — says  I :  "  They  have  borrowed  every- 
thing I  have  got,  unless  it  is  Josiah." 

And  if  you'll  believe  it,  before  I  had  got  the  words 
out  of  my  mouth,  Miss  Spinks'es  sister  opened  the 
door,  and  walked  in,  and  asked  me  "  if  I  could  spare 
Mr.  Allen  to  help  stretch  a  carpet." 

And  1  whispered  to  sister  Bamber,  and  says  1:  "If 


106  THE  LAST  THING. 


they  haint  borrowed  the  last  thing  now ;  if  they  haint 
borrowed  Josiah." 

But  I  told  the  girl  "  to  take  him  an'  welcome."     (I 
was  very  polite  to  'em,  and  meant  to  be,  but  cool.) 


BOKKOWIN'  JOSIAH. 

So  I  took  holt  and  done  the  churnin'  myself,  and 
let  him  go.  And  he  come  home  perfectly  tuckered 
out.  Wasn't  good  for  nothin'  hardly  for  several  days. 
He  got  strained  somehow  a  pullin'  on  that  carpet. 
But  after  that  they  would  send  for  him  real  often  to 
help  do  some  job.  They  both  took  as  much  agin  lib- 
erty with  Josiah  as  they  did  with  me ;  they  worked 
him  down  almost  to  skin  and  bones.  Besides  all  the 


SPINKS  ES   COW — A   NIGHT   SCENE. 


A  NEIGHBORIN'  COW.  109 

rest  he  suffered.  Why,  his  cow-sufferin'  alone  was 
perfectly,  awful.  They  had  a  cow,  a  high-headed 
creeter ;  as  haughty  a  actin'  cow  as  I  ever  see  in  my 
life.  She  would  hold  her  head  right  up,  and  walk 
over  our  fence,  and  tramp  through  the  garden.  I 
didn't  know  how  Josiah  felt  about  it,  but  I  used  to 
think  myself  that  I  could  have  stood  it  as  well  agin  if 
it  hadn't  been  so  high  headed.  It  would  look  so  sort 
o'  independent  and  overbearin'  at  me,  when  it  was 
a  walkin'  through  the  fence,  and  tramplin'  through 
the  garden.  Josiah  always  laid  out  his  beds  in  the 
garden  with  a  chalk-line,  as  square  and  beautiful  as 
the  pyramids,  and  that  cow  jest  leveled  'em  to  the 
ground.  They  tied  her  up  nights,  but  she  would  get 
loose,  and  start  right  for  our  premises ;  seemed  to  take 
right  to  us,  jest  as  the  rest  of  'em  did.  But  I  held 
firm,  for  I  see  that  gettin'  up  night  after  night,  and 
goin'  out  in  the  night  air,  chasin'  after  that  cow,  was 
coolin'  off  my  companion's  affection  for  the  Spinkses. 

And  then  they  kept  the  awfulest  sight  of  liens.  I 
know  Josiah  was  dretful  tickled  with  the  idee  at  first, 
and  said,  "mebby  we  could  swap  with  'em,  get  into 
their  kind  of  hens." 

And  I  told  him  in  a  cautious  way  "that  I  shouldn't 
wonder  a  mite  if  we  did." 

Wall,  them  hens  seemed  to  feel  jest  as  the  rest  of 
the  family  did ;  didn't  seem  to  want  to  stay  to  home  » 
minute,  but  flocked  right  over  onto  us;  stayed  right 
by  us  day  and  night;  would  hang  round  our  doors  and 


110 


THEM  HENS. 


door-steps,  and  come  into  the  house  every  chance  they 
could  get,  daytimes;  and  nights,  would  roost  right 
along  on  the  door-yard 
fence,  and 
porch,  and 


the    front 
the   lilack 

bushes,  and  the  pump. 
Why,  the  story  got  out 
that  we  was  keepin'  a 


hen-dairy,  and 
strangers  who  thought 
of  goin'  into  the  busi- 
ness would  stop  and 
holler  to  Josiah,  and 
ask  him  if  he  found  it 
profitable  to  keep  so 

many  hens.     And  I'd  see  that  man  shakin'  his  fist  at 
'em,  after  they  would  go  on,  he  would  be  that  mad  at 


OUR  HEN-DAIKY. 


JOSIAH  TURNS  NURSE.  Ill 

'em.  Somehow  the  idee  of  keopin'  a  hen-dairy  was 
always  dretful  obnoxious  to  Josiah,  though  it  is  per- 
fectly honorable,  as  far  as  I  can  see. 

Finally,  he  had  made  so  much  of  'em,  the  two  boys 
got  to  thinkin'  so  much  of  Josiah  that  they  wanted  to 
sleep  with  him,  and  he,  thinkin'  it  wouldn't  be  neigh- 
borly to  refuse,  let  'em  come  every  little  while.  And 
they  kicked  awfully.  They  kicked  Josiah  Allen  till  he 
was  black  and  blue.  It  come  tough  on  Josiah,  but  I 
didn't  say  a  word,  only  I  merely  told  him  "that  of 
course  he  couldn't  expect  me  to  sleep  with  the  hull 
neighborhood,"  so  I  went  off,  and  slept  in  the  settin'- 
room  bedroom.  It  made  me  a  sight  of  work,  but  I 
held  firm. 

At  last  Spink  and  his  wife,  and  his  wife's  sister,  got 
into  the  habit  of  goin'  off  nights  to  parties,  and 
leavin'  the  twin  with  Josiah.  And  though  it  almost 
broke  my  heart  to  see  his  sufferin's,  still,  held  up  by 
principle,  and  the  aim  I  had  in  view,  I  would  go  off 
and  sleep  in  the  settin'-room  bedroom,  and  let  'Josiah 
tussle  with  it.  Sometimes  it  would  have  the  colic 
most  all  night,  and  the  infantum,  and  the  snuffles. 
But,  though  I  could  have  wept  when  I  heerd  my  pard- 
ner  a  groanin'  and  a  sithein'  in  the  dead  of  night,  and 
a  callin'  on  heaven  to  witness  that  no  other  man  ever 
had  the  sufferin's  he  was  a  sufferin',  still,  held  up  by 
my  aim,  I  would  lay  still,  and  let  it  go  on. 

It  wore  on  Josiah  Allen.  His  health  seemed  to  be 
a  runnin'  down ;  his  morals  seemed  to  be  loose  and 


112  JOSIAH  TOTTERS. 

totterin';  he  would  snap  me  up  every  little  while  as  if 
he  would  take  my  head  off;  and  unbeknown  to  him  I 
would  hear  him  a  jawin'  to  himself,  and  a  shakin'  his 
fist  at  nothin'  when  he  was  alone,  and  actin'.  But  I 
kep'  cool,  for  though  he  didn't  come  out  and  say  a 
word  to  me  about  the  Spinkses,  still  I  felt  a  feelin' 
that  there  would  be  a  change.  But  I  little  thought 
the  change  was  so  near. 

But  one  mornin'  to  the  breakfast-table,  as  I  handed 
Josiah  his  fourth  cup  of  coffee,  he  says  to  me,  says  he : 

"Samantha,  sposen  we  go  to  Brother  Bamberses 
to-day,  and  spend  the  day.  I  feel,"  says  he,  with  a 
deep  sithe,  "I  feel  as  if  I  needed  a  change." 

Says  I,  lookin'  pityingly  on  his  pale  and  haggard 
face,  "you  do,  Josiah,"  and  says  I,  "if  I  was  in  your 
place  I  would  speak  to  Brother  Bamber  about  the 
state  of  your  morals."  Says  I,  in  a  tender  yet  firm 
tone,  "I  don't  want  to  scare  you,  Josiah,  nor  twit  you, 
but  your  morals  seem  to  be  a  totterin';  I  am  afraid 
you  are  a  back-slidin',  Josiah  Allen." 

He  jumped  right  up  out  of  his  chair,  and  shook  his 
fist  over  towards  the  Spinks'es  house,  and  hollered  out 
in  a  loud,  awful  tone : 

"My  morals  would  be  all  right  if  it  wuzn't  for  them 
dumb  Spinkses,  dumb  'em." 

You  could  have  knocked  me  down  with  a  pin- 
feather  (as  it  were),  1  was  that  shocked  and  agitated; 
it  had  all  come  onto  me  so  sudden,  and  his  tone  was  so 
loud  and  shameful.  But  before  I  could  say  a  word  he 


A  RECAPITULATION.  113 

went  on,  a  shakin'  his  fist  vehementer  and  wilder  than 
I  ever  see  a  fist  shook : 

"I  guess  you  be  neighbored  witli  as  I  have  been, 
and  slept  with  by  two  wild-cats,  and  be  kicked  till  you 
are  black  and  blue,  and  mebby  you'd  back-slide! " 

"Says  I:  "Josiah  Allen,  if  you  don't  go  to  see 
Brother  Bamber  to-day,  Brother  Bamber  shall  come  and 
see  you.  Did  I  ever  expect  to  live,"  says  I,  with  a  gloomy 
face,  "to  see  my  pardner  rampagin'  round  worse  than 
any  pirate  that  ever  swum  the  seas,  and  shakin'  his 
fist,  and  actin'.  I  told  you  in  the  first  on't,  Josiah 
Allen,  to  begin  as  you  could  hold  out." 

"  What  if  you  did  ? "  he  yelled  out.  "  Who  thought 
we'd  be  borrowed  out  of  house  and  home,  and  visited 
to  death,  and  trampled  over  by  cows,  and  roosted  on ; 
who  s'posed  they'd  run  me  over  with  twin,  and  work 
me  down  to  skin  and  bone,  and  foller  me  'round  tight 
to  my  heels  all  day,  and  sleep  with  me  nights,  and 
make  dumb  lunaticks  of  themselves  ?  Dumb  em ! " 

Says  I  in  firm  accents,  "  Josiah  Allen,  if  you  swear 
another  swear  to-day,  I'll  part  with  you  before  Squire 
Baker."  Says  I,  "  It  betters  it,  don't  it,  for  you  to 
start  up  and  go  to  swearin'." 

Before  Josiah  could  answer  me  a  word,  the  door 
opened  and  in  come  Miss  Spink'ses  sister.  They 
never  none  of  'em  knocked,  but  dropped  right  down 
on  us  unexpected,  like  sun-strokes. 

Says  she,  with  a  sort  of  a  haughty,  independent 
5 


114  MORE  DEMANDS. 


mean  onto  her  (some  like  their  cow's  mean),  and 
directin'  her  conversation  to  Josiah  : 

"  Mr.  Spink  is  goin'  to  have  his  likeness  took, 
to-day,  and  he  would  be  glad  to  borrow  the  loan  of 
your  pantaloons  and  galluses.  And  he  said  if  you 
didn't  want  your  pantaloons  to  go  without  your  boots 
went  with  'em,  he  guessed  he'd  wear  your  boots,  as  his 
had  been  heel-tapped  and  might  show.  And  the  two 
boys  bein'  so  took  up  with  you,  Mr.  Allen,  their  Ma 
thought  she'd  let  'em  come  over  here  and  sleep  with 
you  while  they  was  gone ;  they  didn't  know  but  they 
might  stay  several  days  to  her  folks'es,  as  they  had 
heard  of  a  number  of  parties  that  was  goin'  to  be  held 
in  that  neighborhood.  And  knowin'  you  hadn't  no 
little  childern  of  your  own,  she  thought  it  might  be 
agreeable  to  you  to  keep  the  twin,  while  they  was  gone 
— and — and —  " 

She  hadn't  got  through  with  her  speech,  and  I  don't 
know  what  she  would  have  tackled  us  for  next.  But 
the  door  opened  without  no  warnin',  and  in  come  Miss 
Spink  herself,  and  she  said  that  "  Spink  had  been  urgin' 
her  to  be  took,  too,  and  they  kinder  wanted  to  be  took 
holt  of  hands,  and  they  thought  if  Josiah  and  me  had 
some  kid  gloves  by  us,  they  would  borrow  the  loan  of 
'em;  they  thought  it  would  give  'em  a  more  genteel, 
aristocratic  look.  And  as  for  the  childern,"  says  she, 
"  we  shall  go  off  feelin'  jest  as  safe  and  happy  about 
'em  as  if  they  was  with  us,  they  love  dear  Mr.  Allen 
so."  And  says  she  with  a  sweet  smile,  "  I  have  lived 


JO8IAH  GETS  MAD.  115 

on  more  places  than  I  can  think  of  hardly — we  never 
have  lived  but  a  little  while  in  a  place,  somehow  the 
climates  didn't  agree  with  us  long  at  a  time.  But 
never,  in  all  the  places  we  have  lived  in,  have  we  ever 
had  such  neighbors,  never,  never  did  we  take  such 
solid  comfort  a-neighborin',  as  we  do  here." 

Josiah  jumped  right  upon  his  feet,  and  shook  his  fist 
at  her,  and  says  he,  in  a  more  skareful  tone  than  he 
had  used  as  yet : 

"  You  have  got  to  stop  it.  If  you  don't  stop  neigh- 
berin'  with  me,  I'll  know  the  reason  why." 

Miss  Spink  looked  skairt,  and  agitated  awful,  but  I 
laid  hands  on  him,  and  says  I,  "Be  calm,  Josiah  Allen, 
and  compose  yourself  down." 

"I  won't  be  calm!"  says  he;  "I  won't  be  composed 
down." 

Says  I,  firmly,  still  a-keepin'  between  him  and  her, 
and  still  a-layin'  holt  of  him,  "  You  must,  Josiah  !  " 

"  I  tell  you  I  won't,  Samantha !  I'll  let  you  know," 
says  he,  a-shakin'  his  fist  at  her  powerful,  "  I'll  let 
you  know  that  you  have  run  me  over  with  twin  for  the 
last  time ;  I'll  let  you  know  that  I  have  been  trampled 
over,  and  eat  up  by  cows,  and  roosted  on,  and  slept 
with  for  the  last  time,"  says  he,  shakin'  both  fists  at 
at  her.  "You  have  neighbored  your  last  neighbor 
with  me,  and  I'll  let  you  know  you  have." 

Says  I,  "  Josiah  Allen,  I  tell  you  to  compose  your- 
self down." 

"And  I  tell  you  again,  Samantha,  that  I  won't!" 


116  MEJUM  COURSES. 

But  I  could  see  that  his  voice  was  sort  'o  lowerin' 
down,  and  I  knew  the  worst  was  over.  1  spoke  sort  'o 
soothin'ly  to  him,  and  told  him,  in  tender  axents,  that 
he  shouldn't  be  neighbored  with  another  mite ;  and 
finally,  I  got  him  quieted  down.  But  he  looked  bad 
in  the  face,  and  his  sithes  was  fearful. 

My  feelin's  for  that  man  give  me  strength  to  give 
Miss  Spink  a  piece  of  my  mind.  My  talk  was  calm, 
but  to  the  purpose,  and  very  smart.  It  was  a  very 
little  on  the  allegory  way.  I  told  her  jest  how  I  felt 
about  mejum  courses  ;  how  sweet  and  happyfyin'  it 
was  to  pursue  'em. 

Says  I,  "  Fire  is  first-rate,  dretful  comfortin'  for 
warmin'  and  cookin'  purposes ;  too  much  fire  is  bad, 
and  leads  to  conflagrations,  martyrs,  and  etcetery. 
Water  is  good;  too  much  leads  to  drowndin',  dropsy, 
and-so-forth.  Neighborin'  is  good,  first-rate,  if  follered 
mejumly.  Too  much  neighborin'  leads  to  weariness, 
anarky,  kicks,  black  and  blue  pardners,  and  almost 
delerious  Josiahs." 

As  quick  as  I  mentioned  the  word  kick,  I  see  a 
change  in  Josiah's  face ;  he  begun  to  shake  his  fist, 
and  act ;  I  see  he  was  a-growin'  wild  agin ;  Miss  Spink 
see  it  too,  and  she  and  her  sister  fled. 

That  very  afternoon  Josiah  went  to  Jonesville  and 
served  some  papers  onto  'em.  They  hadn't  made  no 
bargain,  for  any  certain  time,  so  by  losin'  all  his  rent, 
he  got  rid  of  'em  before  the  next  afternoon.  And 
says  he  to  me  that  night,  as  he  sot  by  the  fire  rubbin' 


MEDITATED  MURDER. 


117 


some  linement  onto  his  legs  where  he  had  been  kicked, 
says  he  to  me  : 

"  Samantha,  if  any  human  bein'  ever  conies  to  rent 
that  house  of  me,  I'll  shoot  'em  down,  jest  as  I  wonld 
a  mush  rat." 

I  knew  he  had  lost  over  two  hundred  dollars  by  'em, 


JOSIAH  s  vow. 

and  been  kicked  so  lame  that  he  couldn't  stand  on  his 
feet  hardly.  I  knew  that  man  had  been  neighbored 
almost  into  his  grave,  but  I  couldn't  set  by  calmly  and 
hear  him  talk  no  such  wickedness,  and  so  says  I : 

"  Josiah  Allen,  can't  you  ever  learn  to  take  a  mejum 
course  ?    You  needn't  go  round  huntin'  up  renters,  or 


118 


"  SHOOT  HIM  ON  THE  SPOT." 


murder  'em  if  they  come  nigh  you."     Says  I,  "  You 
must  learn  to  be  more  moderate  and  mejum." 

But  he  kep'  right  on,  a-pourin'  out  the  linement  on 
his  hand,  and  rubbin'  it  onto  his  legs,  and  stuck  to  it 
to  the  last.  Says  he,  "  I'd  shoot  him  down,  jest  as  I 
would  a  mushrat ;  and  there  hain't  a  law  in  the  land 
but  what  would  bear  me  out  in  it." 


MOBALIZIN'  AND  EPISODIN'. 

A  NYBODY  would  have  thought  that  this  episode 
~L±.  (Spink  episode)  would  have  sickened  Josiah 
Allen  of  launchin'  out  into  any  more  headwork,  and 
try  in'  to  made  money  on  a  speck.  But  if  you'll  believe 
it,  Jonathan  Spink'ses  folks  hadn't  been  gone  three 
weeks — for  Kitty  come  back  the  day  after  Spink'ses 
folks  left,  and  she  only  stayed  with  us  two  weeks  that 
time,  havin'  promised  to  stay  a  spell  to  Thomas  Jef- 
ferson's, and  it  was  only  a  few  days  after  she  went — 
and  then  I  knew  by  Josiah's  legs — the  black-and-blue 
spots  hadn't  begun  to  wear  off ;  they  had  just  begun 
to  turn  yaller — and  then  I  knew  by  my  head-dress, 
too — when  that  man  come  home  from  Jonesville  one 
night,  cross  as  a  bear. 

I  said  I  knew  by  my  new  head-dress.  I  well  remem- 
ber I  had  wore  it  that  afternoon  for  the  first  time, 
some  expectin'  very  genteel  company,  and  wantin'  to 
look  well.  But  the  company  didn't  come,  and  Kellup 
Cobb  did.  He  come  to  bring  home  a  cent  he  had 

(119) 


120  EXTRAVAGANT  WAYS. 

borrowed  the  night  before  at  the  missionary  meetin' 
to  send  for  his  annual  gift  to  the  heathens.  And  he 
noticed  my  new  cap  in  a  minute.  He  looked  witherin' 
and  overbearin'  at  it,  and  in  a  sort  of  a  back-handed, 
underground  way,  that  I  can't  bear,  nor  never  could, 
he  begun  to  throw  hints  at  me  about  it.  About 
married  women  and  members  of  meetin'-housen 
spendin'  their  money  in  such  extravagance,  when 
they  might  spend  it  in  spreadin'  the  Gospel  in  be- 
nighted lands — and  about  how  awful  wicked  it  was  to 
be  so  dressy — and  et  cetery,  et  cetery. 

My  cap  wuz  middlin'-foamin'  lookin'.  I  couldn't 
deny  it,  and  didn't  try  to.  It  wuzn't  what  you  might 
call  over  and  above  dressy,  but  it  was  handsome,  and 
very  nice.  The  ribbin  on  it  cost  me  18  pence  per  yard, 
and  the  cap  contained  two  yards  and  a  half ;  it  was 
very  nice.  But  none  too  good  for  me,  my  Josiah  said. 

He  is  what  you  may  call  a  close  man  at  a  bargain. 
(Tight,  would  perhaps  be  a  better  word  to  express  his 
situation.)  But  he  loves  dearly  to  see  me  look  beautiful. 
And  he  is  very  gay  in  his  tastes ;  red  is  his  favorite 
color,  and  the  more  fiery  shades  of  yellow ;  he  would 
be  glad  to  see  me  dressed  in  these  tints  all  the  time. 
But  I  don't  encourage  him  in  the  idee.  Not  that  I 
think  one  color  is  wickeder  than  another,  but  they 
don't  seem  to  be  becomin'  to  my  style  and  age. 

Now  this  new  head  dress,  I  had  picked  it  out  and 
selected  it  with  my  pardner  by  my  side,  and  he  whis- 
pered to  me  loud,  as  I  was  a-selectin'  of  it :  "  If  you 


THE  COMPROMISE. 


121 


have  got  to  have  a  new  cap,  Samantha,  for  mercy's 
sake  get  a  red  one." 

But  I  whispered  to  him  that  I  should  look  like  a 
fool  with  a  red  cap  on,  and  to  keep  still. 

And  then  he  whispered  agin,  in  a  more  anxious 
tone:  "Wall  then,  for  pity's  sake  do  get  yeller,  or 


THE  NEW  HEAD-DRESS. 

sunthin'  that  has  got  a  little  color  to  it.  Black ! 
black !  the  whole  of  the  time ;  you  look  jest  like  a 
mourner." 

I  had  a  black  one  on  my  hand  at  that  time,  admirm' 
5* 


122  A  PERFECT    TYRENT. 

of  it,  and  most  settled  on  it.  But  Josiah's  mean  was 
such  as  I  was  a-settlin',  that  I,  as  a  devoted  pardner, 
and  a  woman  of  principle,  compromised  the  matter 
with  Josiah  and  Duty,  by  purchasin'  one  trimmed 
with  a  sort  of  a  pinky,  lilock  color.  It  was  very  be- 
comin'  to  me.  But  I  won't  deny,  as  a  woman  who  is 
bred  to  tellin'  the  truth,  and  not  gin  to  deceit  and  cov- 
erin'  up, — 1  won't  deny  that  the  first  time  I  tried  that 
head-dress  on  after  I  got  home,  I  had  my  curious  feel- 
in's.  I  thought  mebby  it  was  wrong  for  me  to  buy  such 
costly  ribbin,  and  so  much  of  it.  And  then  I  worried 
about  the  color,  too.  Thinkses  I,  mebby  it  is  too 
young  for  me ;  too  young  for  a  woman  who  owns  a 
bald-headed  pardner  and  a  grandchild,  and  who  has 
but  few  teeth  left  in  her  head. 

My  conscience  is  a  perfect  old  tyrent,  and  jest 
drives  me  round  more'n  half  the  time.  I  am  willin' 
to  be  drove  by  her  as  fur  as  I  ort  to  be.  But  some- 
times, I  declare  for't,  I  get  so  tuckered  out  with  her 
drivin's,  that  I  get  fairly  puzzled,  and  wonderin' 
whether  she  knows  herself  all  the  time  jest  what  she 
is  about;  whether  she  is  certain  that  she  is  always 
a  drivin'  me  in  the  right  road ;  and  how  fur  I  ort  to 
be  drove  by  her,  and  when,  and  where  to ;  and  whether 
I  ort  to  let  my  intellect  and  common  sense  lay  holt 
and  help  her  drive.  As  I  say,  she  run  me  consider- 
able of  a  run  on  this  head-dress.  I  had  a  awful  time 
of  it,  and  won't  deny  it,  and  I  was  on  the  very  pint 
several  times  of  carryin'  it  back.  But  when  Kellup 


THE  OLD  APPLE  TREE. 


123 


come  right  out,  and  gin  such  powerful  hints  about  it ; 
about  extravagance,  and  wickedness,  and  vanity ;  and 
about  married  wimmen  settin'  sinful  patterns  to  them 
outside  of  meetin'-housen,  and  that  it  didn't  look  likely, 
and  et  cetery,  et  cetery,  and  so  forth. 

Why,  as  he  went  on  a  • 
hintin'  so  powerful  strong, 
and  givin' 
such  burn- 
in'  glances 
onto  that 
head  -  dress, 
why,  I  sort 
o'  sprunted 
up,  and  be- 
gun to  see 
things  on 
the  other 
side  plainer 
than  I  had 
seen  'em. 

Then  says  I,  as 
the    eyes    of    my 


APPLE  BLOSSOMS. 


the  apple -boughs 
that  filled  the  north 

kitchen  winder  with  a  glow  of  rosiness  and  sweetneis : 
"  The  Lord  don't  seem  to  think  as  you  do,  Kellup. 

Jest  see  how  He  has  dressed  up  that  old  apple-tree." 


124 


NATER'S  8TIDDY  BUSINESS. 


Says  I  :  "No  fashionable  belle  in  New  York  or  Paris 
village  can  ever  hope  to  wear  garments  so  daintily  fine 
and  sweet.  No  queen  nor  empress  ever  wore  or  ever 
will  wear  for  their  coronation  robes  such  splendid  and 

gorgeous  raiment  as 
the  common  spring  suit 
of  that  old  apple-tree." 
Says  Kellup,  holdin' 
his  head  well  up  in  the 
air,  and  drawin'  his  lips 
down  with  a  very  self- 
righteous  drawin',  that 
I  knew  meant  head- 
dress, though  he  didn't 
come  right  out  and  say 

"I  despise  and  de- 

test the  foolishness  of  display.  There  is  more  import- 
ant and  serious  business  on  earth  than  dressin'  up  to 
look  nice." 

"That  is  so,"  says  I,  "that  is  jest  as  true  as  you 
live.  Now  that  old  apple  tree's  stiddy  business  and 
theme  is  to  make  sweet,  juicy  apples  ;  but  at  the  same 
time  that  don't  hender  her  from  dressin'  up,  and 
lookin'  well.  The  Lord  might  have  made  the  apples 
grow  in  rows  right  round  the  trunk  from  top  to  bot- 
tom, with  no  '  foolishness  of  display'  of  the  rosy  coloring 
and  perfume  —  but  He  didn't.  He  chose  in  His  wisdom, 
which  it  is  not  for  you  or  me  to  doubt,  to  make  it  a 


HOW  IT  MIGHT  HAVE  BEEN. 


A  HARD-WORKING  PERSON.  125 

glory  and  a  delight  to  every  beholder.  So  beautiful 
that  the  birds  sail  and  sing  with  very  joy  in  and  out 
of  the  sweet  branches,  and  the  happy  bees  hum  delight- 
edly about  the  honey-laden  cells,  and  she  whose  name 
was  once  Smith,  has  been  made  happy  as  a  queen  all 
day  long,  by  jest  lookin'  out  of  that  window  down  into 
the  fragrant,  rosy  depths  of  sweetness  and  light." 

"Wall,"  says  Kellup,  lookin'  keen  at  my  head-dress, 
"  I  don't  consider  it  likely,  anyway,  to  spend  so  much 
time  a  dressin'  up — it  is  a  shiftless  waste  of  time, 
anyway." 

"  Why,"  says  I ;  for  the  more  he  scolded  me,  the 
plainer  I  see  the  other  side  of  things.  So  curious  are 
human  bein's  constituted  and  sot. 

"  Nater  has  always  been  considered  likely — I  never 
heard  a  word  against  her  character,  and  she  is  stiddy 
minded,  too,  and  hard  workin'.  She  works  hard, 
Nater  does.  She  works  almost  beyond  her  strength 
sometimes.  She  has  sights  of  work  on  her  hands  all 
the  hull  time,  and  she  has  a  remarkable  knack  of 
turnin'  off  tremendous  day's  works.  And  I  never  in 
my  hull  life  heard  her  called  shiftless  or  slack.  But 
what  a  case  she  is  to  orniment  herself  off ;  to  rag  out 
and  show  herself  in  so  many  different  colors.  And  if 
she  feels  better  to  be  dressed  up  and  fixed  off  kinder 
pretty  while  she's  to  work,  I  don't  know  whose  busi- 
ness it  is.  I  never  was  no  case  myself  to  dress  up  in 
white  book  muslin,  or  pink  silk,  or  bobonet  lace,  or 
anything  of  that  kind,  when  I  was  a  doin'  hard  jobs, 


126 


A  GORGEOUS  BELT. 


such  as  makin'  soap,  and  runnin'  candles,  and  cleanin' 
house,  and  etcetery.  And  when  I  have  got  to  be  out 
in  the  rain  when  it  is  all  drabbly  and  muddy,  why  I 

jest  wrap  up  and  look 
like  fury.  But  she 
don't.  No!  I  have 
known  her  time  and 
agin  to  tie  the  most 
gorgeous  and  shinin' 
rainbow  round  her  old 
waist  and  jest  lay  her- 
self out  to  look  foamin' 
and  dressy,  right  there 
in  the  rain. 

"  It  beats  all  how  she 
does  fix  herself  up. 
But  it  don't  hurt  my 
feelin's  at  all.  I  never 
was  a  mite  jealous  of 
other  females  lookin' 
better  than  I  did. 

The  better  they  look,  the  better  I  enjoy  lookin'  at  'em. 
And  if  Nater  can  dress  up  better  and  look  better 
while  she  is  a  doin'  her  spring  work  and  all  her  other 
hard  jobs  than  I  can,  good  land !  how  simple  it  would 
be  in  me  to  blame  her.  There  is  where  I  use  such 
cast-iron  reason.  You  don't  ketch  me  a  blamin'  other 
folks  for  their  little  personal  ways  and  habits  that 
don't  do  nobody  no  hurt.  She  is  well  off,  Nater  is, 
and  able  to  do  as  she  is  a  mind  to ;  she  has  got  plenty 


HARD  AT  IT. 


LET  'EM  LOOK.  127 


to  do  with ;  she  don't  have  to  scrimp  herself  to  buy 
flowers,  and  tossels,  and  rainbows.  If  she  did,  I 
shouldn't  approve  of  it  in  her,  not  at  all.  I  despise 
folks  goin'  beyond  their  means  to  look  pretty.  I 
think  it  is  wicked,  and  the  height  of  dretfulness.  But 
if  them  that  are  abundantly  able  and  willin'  want  to 
look  nice,  I  say,  let  'em  look." 

And  I  cast  a  conscious  and  sort  of  a  modest  glance 
up  into  the  lookin'-glass  that  hung  over  the  table.  I 
could  jest  ketch  a  glimpse  of  my  head-dress,  and  I  see 
that  its  strings  floated  out  noble,  and  I  see  at  the  same 
glance  that  he  was  still  lookin'  witherin'  at  it.  But  I 
didn't  care  a  mite  for  it.  I  was  jest  filled  with  my 
subject  (that  side  of  it,  for  every  subject  has  got 
more'n  a  dozen  sides  to  it),  and  the  more  he  cast 
them  witherin'  looks  onto  me  the  more  I  wuzn't 
withered — but  soared  up  in  mind,  and  grew  eloquent. 

And  I  went  on  fearfully  eloquent  about  Nater,  and 
the  way  she  fixed  herself  up  perfectly  beautiful— right 
when  she  was  a  workin'  the  hardest. 

"Why,"  says  I,  "when  she  goes  way  down  into  the 
depths  of  the  under  world  to  make  iron,  and  coal,  and 
salt,  and  things  that  has  got  to  be  made,  and  she  has 
got  to  make  'em — why,  she  can't  be  contented  way 
down  there  in  the  dark,  all  alone  by  herself,  with- 
out deckin'  herself  off  with  diamonds,  and  all  sorts  of 
precious  gems,  and  holdin'  up  wreaths  of  shinin'  crys- 
tal, enameled  fern  fronds,  and  hangin'  clusters  snowy 
white,  and  those  shinin'  with  every  dazzlin'  hue. 


128  A  ROYAL  HALL. 


"  And  way  down  on  the  ocean  floor,  fifteen  miles  or 
so  down  below,  where  she  would  naturally  expect  no- 
body would  come  a  visatin' — why,  way  down  there, 
where  she  must  know  that  there  hain't  no  company 
liable  to  drop  in  on  her  onexpected,  yet  every  minute 
of  the  time  she  is  all  ornimented  off  with  pearls,  and 
opal-tinted  shells,  daintest  green  and  crimson  sea- 
grass,  gem-like  purple  astreas,  wonderful  pink  and 
white  coral  wreaths — all  strange  and  lovely  blossoms 
of  the  sea. 

"  What  tongue  can  tell  the  wonders  of  the  beauty  she 
arrays  herself  with  way  down  there  in  the  dark  alone. 
How  every  little  bud  of  beauty  is  wreathed  around 
with  other  marvels  of  loveliness — how  all  about  one 
tiny  little  bit  of  a  blossom  will  be  twined  other  won- 
derful little  flowerin'  vines,  starred  with  crystal  bells. 

"  No  tongue  can  ever  describe  it — not  mine,  cer- 
tainly, for  I  say  but  little  myself,  and  that  little  is 
far  too  small  to  express  these  wonders  of  beauty. 

"  And  then  right  round  here,  when  she  is  to  work 
right  here  in  our  fields,  doin'  her  common  run  of 
hard  work — such  as  makin'  wheat,  and  oats,  and  other 
grain.  No  matter  how  hot  the  weather  is,  or  muggy; 
no  matter  whether  she  is  behindhand  with  her  work, 
and  in  a  awful  hurry — she  always  finds  time  to  scatter 
along  in  the  orderly  ranks  of  the  grain,  wild  red  pop- 
pies and  blue-eyed  asters.  And  I  never  in  my  life, 
and  Josiah  never  did,  see  her  ever  make  a  solid  ear  of 
corn  without  she  hung  on  top  of  it  a  long  silk  tosael. 


NATURE  S   OCEAN    BOUDOIR. 


WONDROUS  BEAUTY. 


131 


And  I  don't  believe  she  ever  made  a  ton  of  hay  in  the 
world,  if  she  had  her  own  way  about  it,  but  what  she 
made  it  perfectly  gay  with 
white  daisies  and  butter-cups. 

"  And  all  the  gardens  of  the 
world  she  glorifies,  and  all  the 
roads,  and  hedges,  and  lanes, 
and  by-ways.  No  matter  how 
long  and  crooked  they  are,  or 
how  tejus,  she  scatters  bloss- 
oms of  brightness  and  beauty 
over  them  all. 

"And  clear  up  on  the  highest 
mountains,  under   the   shadow 
of  the  everlastin'   snows,  she 
will   stop  to   lay  a  cluster  of 
sweet  mountain 
anemones  and  Al- 
pine roses  on  the 
old  bosom — for  she 
is  a  gettin'  consid- 
erable    along     in 
years,     Nater     is. 
Not  that  I  say  it  in 
a  runnin'  way   at 
all,  or  spiteful,  or 
mean.  Butls'pose 
she   is  older   than 
NATURE'S  WORK.  we  have  any  idee 


132  NATER'S  EXAMPLE. 

of — as  old  agin  as  folks  call  her.  But  she  acts  young, 
and  looks  so.  She  holds  her  age  remarkable,  as  has 
been  often  remarked  about  a  person  whose  name  was 
once  Smith. 

"  Why,  she  acts  fairly  frisky  and  girlish  sometimes. 
Way  down  in  the  lowest  valleys,  down  by  the  most 
hidden  brook-side,  she  will  sit  down  to  weave  together 
the  most  lovely  and  coquetish  bunches  of  fern  and 
grasses,  and  scarlet  and  golden  wild  flowers,  and  deck 
herself  up  in  'em  like  a  bride  of  16.  You  never 
ketched  her  runnin'  in  debt  for  a  lot  of  stuff  thougli 
— her  principles  are  too  firm.  But  she  goes  on  makin' 
beauty  and  gladness  wherever  she  goes,  and  lookin' 
handsome,  and  if  it  had  been  wicked  the  Lord 
wouldn't  have  let  her  go  on  in  it.  He  could  have 
stopped  her  in  a  minute  if  He  had  wanted  to.  She 
does  jest  as  He  tells  her  to,  and  always  did. 

"  And,"  says  I,  with  considerable  of  a  stern  look 
onto  Kellup,  "  if  Nater — if  she  who  understands  the 
unwritten  language  of  God,  that  we  can't  speak  yet — 
if  she,  whose  ways  seem  to  us  to  be  a  revelation  of 
that  will  of  the  Most  High — if  she  can  go  on  wreath- 
ing herself  in  beauty,  I  don't  think  we  should  be 
afraid  of  gettin'  holt  of  all  we  can  of  it — of  all  lovely 
things.  And  I  don't  think,"  says  I,  givin'  a  sort  of  a 
careless  glance  up  into  the  lookin'-glass,  "  that  there 
should  be  such  a  fuss  made  by  the  world  at  large  about 
my  head-dress." 

"But,"  says  Kellup,  a  groanin'  loud  and  violent, 


THE  ORTHODOX  SIDE. 


"  it  is  the  wickedness  of  it  I  look  at.  To  follow  the 
vile  example  of  the  rich.  And  oh !  how  wicked  rich 
folks  be.  How  hard-hearted,  how  unprincipled,  and 
vile."  And  agin  he  groaned,  deep. 

Says  I,  "  Don't  groan  so,  Kellup,"  for  it  was  truly 
skairful  to  hear  him. 

Says  he,  "  I  will  groan ! "  Says  he,  "  The  carryin's 
on  and  extravagance  of  the  rich  is  enough  to  make  a 
dog  groan." 

I  see  I  couldn't  stop  his  groanin',  but  I  went  on  a 
talkin'  reasonable,  in  hopes  I  could  quell  him  down. 

Says  I,  "There  is  two  sides  to  most  everything, 
Kellup,  and  some  have  lots  of  sides.  That  is  what 
makes  the  world  such  a  confusin'  place  to  live  in.  If 
things  and  idees  didn't  have  but  one  side  to  'em,  we 
could  grab  holt  of  that  side,  hold  it  close,  and  be  at 
rest. 

"  But  they  do.  And  you  must  look  on  both  sides  of 
things  before  you  make  a  move.  You  mustn't  confine 
yourself  to  lookin'  on  jest  one  side  of  a  subject,  for  it 
hain't  reasonable." 

"  I  won't  try  to  look  on  both  sides,"  says  he  with  a 
bitter  look.  "That  is  what  makes  folks  onsettled  and 
onstabled  in  their  views,  and  liberal.  But  I  won't. 
I  am  firm  and  decided.  I  am  satisfied  to  look  on  one 
side  of  a  subject — on  the  good  old  orthodox  side. 
You  won't  ketch  me  a  whifflin'  round  and  lookin'  on 
every  side  of  a  idee." 

"Wall,"  says  I,  calmly,  for  to  convince,  and  not 


134  NAMING  A  BABY. 

to  anger,  is  ever  my  theme  and  purpose.  And 
knowin'  that  to  the  multitude  truth  is  most  often 
palatable  if  presented  in  a  parabolical  form,  and  has 
been  for  centuries  often  imbibed  by  them  in  that  way, 
entirely  unbeknown  to  them.  And  knowin'  that  the 
little  scenes  of  daily  life  are  as  good  to  wrap  round 
morals  and  cause  'em  to  be  swallowed  down  unbe- 
knowin',  as  peach  preserves  are  to  roll  round  pills,  I 
went  on  and  says  : 

u  If  you  won't  look  on  only  one  side  of  a  subject, 
Kellup,  you  may  find  yourself  in  as  curious  a  place  as 
Melvin  Case  was  last  fall.  His  wife  told  it  herself  to 
Miss  Gansey,  and  Miss  Gansey  told  the  editor  of  the 
Augurs'es  wife,  and  the  editor  of  the  Augurs'es  wife 
told  Miss  Mooney,  and  she  told  the  woman's  first  hus- 
band's mother-in-law  that  told  me.  It  come  straight. 

"  It  was  a  very  curious  situation,  and  the  way  on't 
was:  Melvin  Case,  as  you  know,  married  Clarinda 
Filler  of  Filler  P'int,  down  on  the  Lake  Shore  road. 
Wall,  they  had  been  married  23  years  and  never  had 
no  childern,  and  last  fall  they  had  a  nice  little  boy. 
He  was  a  welcome  child,  and  weighed  over  9  pounds. 

"  Wall,  Malvin  thought  the  world  of  his  wife,  and 
bein'  very  tickled  about  the  boy,  and  feelin'  very  affec- 
tionate towards  his  wife  at  the  time,  he  proposed  at 
once  that  they  should  call  him  after  her  maiden  name 
— Filler.  Of  course  she  give  her  willin'  consent,  and 
they  was  both  highly  tickled.  But  you  see,  bein' 
blinded  by  affection  and  happiness.,  they  didn't  look  on 


HOW  IT  LOOKED. 


135 


only  one  side  of  the  idee,  and  they  never  studied  on 
how  the  two  names  was  a  goin'  to  look  when  they  was 
put  together,  till  after  he  had  wrote  it  down  in  the 
Bible ;  and  then  he  paused,  with  his  pen  in  his  hand, 
and  looked  up  perfectly  horrified  at  his  wife,  who  was 


BABY  FILLER  CASE. 

holdin'  the  baby  in  her  arms  and  lookin'  over  his 
shoulder,  and  she  looked  perfectly  dumbfoundered  at 
him,  for  they  see  it  looked  awful — Filler  Case. 

"  Now  you  are  lookin'  at  one  side  of  the  subject,  but 
there  is  another  side  to  it,  Kellup, — there  is  as  sure 
as  you  live  and  breathe. 


136  CHARITY. 


"  God  knows  too  much  cannot  be  said  or  sung  about 
the  duty  the  rich  owe  to  the  poor.  They  cannot  study 
too  correctly,  and  follow  too  closely  the  pattern  that 
He,  the  loving  Elder  Brother,  set  them.  He  who  was 
so  tender  in  His  compassion ;  so  helpful  and  thoughtful 
to  the  claims  of  the  poor  and  humble.  But  charity  is 
a  big  word,  and  it  lias  more  than  one  side  to  it.  It 
means  charity  to  the  poor,  under  whose  lowly  roofs 
lie  once  entered,  a  child  of  the  poor,  and  so  consecrated 
them  honorable  for  all  time.  Those  who  were  His 
closest  friends  through  His  toilsome  earthly  life  ;  those 
whom  He  loved  first,  and  loved  last ;  cared  for  even 
in  that  supreme  moment  of  His  most  triumphant  and 
glorious  ignominy.  ShaH  not*  His  followers  forever 
love  and  bless  those  He  hallowed  by  His  tender  care  in 
such  a  moment  ?  Yes,  charity  to  the  poor  first.  But 
we  mustn't  stop  there,  Kellup.  We  may  want  to  set 
right  down  in  front  of  that  side  of  the  word,  and  stay 
there.  But  we  mustn't.  If  we  want  to  view  this 
heavenly  word  on  every  side  we  must  walk  round  on 
the  other  side  of  it,  and  see  that  it  means,  too,  charity 
to  the  rich.  A  higher,  subtler  quality  of  charity  it 
calls  for  in  us  than  the  other. 

"  For  I  can  tell  you,  Kellup,  some  folks  say  it  is  a 
tough  job  for  one  to  keep  a  sweet,  charitable,  loring 
spirit  towards  them  that  are  richer,  more  successful, 
and  happier  than  they  be.  Hard  for  'em  to  rejoice 
over  the  good  fortune  of  the  great.  Hard  for  'em  to 


UPS  AND  DOWNS. 


137 


keep  from  judgin'  them  severely — from  feelin'  envious 
over  the  good  fortune  they  cannot  share. 

"  We  are  exhorted 
to  feel  sorry  for  the 
man  who  falls  down 
and  breaks  his  leg. 
We  are  exhorted  to 
feel  Christian  toward 


that  humble  man.     But 
though  there  hain't  much 
said  on  the  other  side  of 
FEELIN'  CHBISTIAN.  tlie  subject,  I  think  it  is 

enough  sight  harder  to 

feel  Christian  towards  that  man  when  we  are  a  layin' 

flat  on  the  ice,  or  slippery  sidewalk,  and  he  is  a  standin' 

up  straight. 

"  It  is  easy  to  deceive  ourselves  ;  easy  to  give  very 

big,  noble  names  to  very  small  emotions.     And  if  we 


138  DOGNOZING  THE  SYMPTOMS. 

feel  uncomfortable  to  see  some  one  else  who  has  always 
stood  on  the  same  level  with  ourselves  suddenly  lifted 
above  us, — no  matter  how  worthily  he  may  have  earned 
that  more  exalted  station,- — we  may  call  that  uncomfort- 
able feelin'  any  name  we  please.  We  may  call  it  a 
holy  horror  of  worldly-mindedness — a  hauntin'  fear 
lest  he  be  jeopardizin'  his  immortal  soul,  by  settin'  up 
on  that  loftier  spear.  And  mebby  it  is.  I  hain't  a 
goin'  to  come  right  out  and  say  that  it  hain't.  But  I 
will  say  this,  for  there  hain't  no  harm  in  it,  and  it 
can't  make  no  trouble.  I  will  say  that  if  we  feel  this 
uncomfortable  feelin'  we  ort  to  keep  a  close  watch  of 
our  symptoms.  For  though  that  gripin'  pain  in  the 
left  side  may  be  a  religious  pain,  yet  there  is  a  possi- 
bility that  it  may  be  envy.  And  if  it  is,  it  requires 
fur  different  treatment.  And  it  may  be  a  self-righteous, 
Pharasaical  feelin'  that  our  Lord  seemed  to  hate  worst 
of  any  feelin'  we  could  feel. 

"I  tell  you  it  requires  the  very  closest  dognosing 
(to  use  a  high  learnt  medical  phrase)  to  get  the  symp- 
toms exactly  right,  and  see  exactly  what  aches  we  are 
a  achin'.  For  the  heart  that  we  imagine  is  a  gripin' 
and  a  achin'  at  sinful  worldly-mindedness,  may  be  a 
achin'  with  the  consumin'  fever  of  spite,  and  envy  and 
revenge, — the  heart-burnin'  desire  and  determination  to 
bring  the  loftier  and  the  nobler  down  in  some  way  on 
a  level  with  ourselves,  if  not  by  fair  means,  with  the 
foul  ones  of  malice  and  slander  and  lies. 

"  I  don't  say  it  is  so ;  but  I  say,  let  us  be  careful, 


ORNAMENTAL  CHRISTIANITY.  139 

and  let  us  be  charitable  to  all, — the  rich  and  the  poor, 
— for  charity,  Kellup,  like  the  new  linen  ulsters,  covers 
a  multitude  of  sinners. 

"  Now,"  says  I,  metaforin'  a  little,  as  I  might  have 
known  I  should  before  I  got  through,  "  now  if  I  was  a 
woman,  and  should  say  that  to  wear  diamonds  was 
wicked,  or  to  live  in  a  beautiful  home  full  of  books  and 
pictures,  and  all  the  means  of  ease  and  culture  was  an 
abomination  to  me,  and  wicked,  when  I  was  hankerin' 
in  the  very  depths  of  my  soul  to  be  wicked  in  jest  that 
way,  if  I  only  had  the  wherewith  to  be  wicked  with, 
why,  that  holy  horror  I  professed  would  be  vain  in 
me;  empty  as  soundin'  brass  and  tinglin'  symbols. 
Let  us  be  honest  and  true  first,  and  then  put  on  more 
ornamental  Christianity  afterwards ;  there  hain't  no 
danger  of  our  gettin'  any  too  much  of  it,  that  is,  of  the 
right  kind.  Envy  and  hypocracy  and  cant  look  worse 
to  me  than  diamonds  :  and  I  would  wear  the  diamonds 
as  quick  agin — if  I  got  the  chance." 

Kellup  didn't  look  a  mite  convinced.  But  I  kep' 
right  on,  for  though  I  am  a  woman  that  says  but  little, 
yet  when  I  begin  to  convince  anybody  I  always  want 
to  finish  up  the  job  in  a  handsome,  thorough  way,  and 
then  I  felt  real  eloquent ;  and  I  tell  you  it  is  hard, 
even  for  a  close-mouthed  woman,  it  is  hard  for  'em 
when  they  feel  as  eloquent  as  I  did  then  to  keep  from 
swingin'  right  out  and  talkin',  and  I  didn't  try  to  stop 
myself  ;  I  kep'  right  on,  and  says  I : 

"  It  is  a  mistake  in  you  and  in  me  if  we  think  that 


140  TRUE  HEARTS. 


every  rich  person  is  necessarily  a  hard-hearted  one ;  if 
we  think  a  tender  heart  cannot  beat  jest  as  warmly 
and  truly  aginst  a  ermine  robe,  as  a  shabby  overcoat ; 
aginst  a  rich  boddist  waist,  as  a  calico  bask.  There 
are  little,  stingy,  narrow,  contracted  souls  in  every 
station-house  of  life,  high  ones  and  low  ones;  and 
there  are  loving,  generous  ones,  visey  versey,  and  the 
same.  And  God  bless  those  tender  hearts  where- 
ever  they  are  ;  those  who  in  lofty  places  organize  the 
great  charities  whose  benefactions  bless  the  nations  in 
famine,  in  war,  and  in  the  calamity  of  national  sick- 
ness and  distress.  And  Heaven  bless  the  lowly  toilers 
of  life,  whose  humble  gifts  out  of  their  scanty  means 
are  in  God's  sight  equally  as  great. 

"  The  little  blue  potato-blossom  laid  upon  the  pillow 
of  the  sick  by  the  child  of  poverty — we  think  the  per- 
fume of  that  little  odorless  flower  will  rise  to  Heaven 
as  sweet  as  the  most  royal  blossom  given  by  the  child- 
ren of  kings.  The  blossoms  of  true  charity  are  all 
sweet  in  Heaven's  sight." 

And  says  I,  lookin'  up  to  the  ceilin'  in  a  almost 
rapped  eloquence  of  mean,  and  a  lofty  fervency  and 
earnestness  of  axent : 

"  Heaven  bless  all  the  generous,  loving  hearts  that 
beat  under  any  and  every  colored  robe;  under  the 
shabby  garb  of  poverty ;  the  somber  hue  of  some  con- 
secrated sisterhood  of  compassion ;  under  the  quaint 
Quaker  garb,  or  the  bright  silks  of  the  Widder  Albert's 
generous  daughters;  those  who  conscientiously  wear 


BLESSINGS   ON    THEM   ALL,!" 


THE  ROSE  AND  GRAY. 


143 


sober  clothing,  and  those  who  jest  as  innocently  wear 
brighter  apparel.  Heaven  bless  them  all;  the  gray- 
robed  sisterhood  of  Mercy,  God's  dove-colored  angels, 
who  lean  over  the  beds  of  the  sick  and  the  sorrowing, 


A  HEAVENLY  MESSENGER. 

and  whose  shadows  falling  by  the  beds  of  pain  the 
sad-eyed  soldiers  kiss ;  Catholic  or  Protestant,  what- 
ever their  creed,  they  have  the  divinest  gift  of  the 
three — the  divine  gift  of  Charity.  God  made  them 
all — the  rose  and  the  gray ;  the  blue  sky,  the  rainbow, 
and  the  soft  shadow  of  the  twilight  clouds.  He  made 
the  earth  for  His  beloved;  nothing  is  too  good  for 


144  A  WEARISOME  BUSINESS. 

them,  or  too  beautiful.  And  why  should  one  color 
boast  over  another,  as  being  purer-minded,  and  less 
wicked?" 

I  had  been  very  eloquent,  and  felt  considerable  elo- 
quent still,  but  happenin'  to  let  the  eye  of  my  speck 
fall  for  a  minute  on  Kellup,  I  see  by  the  awful  unbe- 
lievin'  look  on  his  face  that  I  had  got  to  simplify  it 
down  to  his  comprehension.  I  see  that  he  did  not 
understand  my  soarin'  ideas  as  I  would  wish  'em  to 
be  understood. 

Not  that  I  blamed  him  for  it.  Good  land !  a  tow 
string  hain't  to  blame  for  not  bein'  made  a  iron  spike. 
But  at  the  same  time  it  is  bad  and  wearisome  business 
for  the  one  who  attempts  to  use  that  tow  string  for  a 
spike — tries  to  drive  it  into  the  solid  wall  of  argument 
and  clinch  a  fact  with  it.  I  had  said  a  good  deal 
about  beauty,  but  it  semede  as  if  I  wanted  to  say 
sunthin'  more,  and  I  went  on  and  said  it: 

"  Some  folks  seem  to  be  afraid  of  beauty  ;  as  'fraid 
of  it  as  if  it  was  a  bear.  They  seem  to  be  more  afraid 
of  lettin'  a  little  beauty  into  their  lives  than  they  be  of 
lettin'  the  same  amount  of  wickedness  in.  You  would 
think  a  man  was  awful  simple  who  would  spend  his 
hull  strength  in  puttin'  up  coverin's  to  his  windows  to 
keep  out  the  sunshine  and  fresh  air,  and  not  pay  any 
attention  to  the  obnoxious  creeters,  wild-cats,  burglars, 
and  etcetery  that  was  comin'  right  into  the  open  front- 
door. And  it  hain't  a  mite  more  simple  than  it  is 
for  them,  for  they  take  so  much  pains  a  puttin'  up  iron 


THE  WREATHED  SPEAR. 


145 


bars  (as  it  were)  across  the  windows  of  their  souls  to 
keep  beauty  and  brightness  and  innocent  recreation 
out  of  it,  that  they  have  no  time  to  see  how  uncharit- 
ableness  and  envy  and  malice  and  hatred  and  a  hull 


regiment  of  just 
ers  are  troopin' 
front-door  unbe- 

"  They  seem  to 
despisin'  beauty, 
merit  in  them  to 
and  feel  hauty 
ous  toward  the 
liest  thing  God 
don't  feel  so, 
think  it  is  wicked 
of  all  the  beauty 
that  I  can,  con- 
duty  to  humanity 

"  There  are 
must  be  done 
must  hold  the 
upright.  We 
principles  stiddy 


such  ugly  creet- 
right  into  the 
known  to  them, 
take  a  pride  in 
as  if  it  was  a 
look  down  upon, 
and  contemptu- 
divinest  and  love- 
ever  made.  I 
Kellup.  I  don't 
for  me  to  lay  holt 
and  happiness 
sistently  with  my 
and  Josiah. 
some  things  that 
first  of  all.  We 
spear  firm  and 
must  carry  our 
and  firm.  But 


we  have  a  perfect  right  and  privilege  to  wreath  that 
spear  and  them  principles  with  all  the  blossoms  of 
brightness  and  innocent  happiness  we  can  possibly 
lay  holt  of.  Them  is  my  opinions.  Howsomever, 
everybody  to  their  own  mind." 

"  Beauty  the  divinest  thing  God  ever  made ! "  says 


146  THE  SPIRIT  OF  BEAUTY. 

Kellup  in  a  hauty,  ironical  tone.  "  How  dare  you  be 
so  wicked,  Josiah  Allen's  wife  ?  I  call  it  awful  wicked 
to  talk  so." 

Says  I,  "  I  don't  believe  anything  is  wicked  that  lifts 
us  right  up  nearer  to  Heaven.  I  don't  mean  to  be 
wicked." 

"  Wall,  you  be,"  says  he,  speakin'  up  sharp.  "  Wor- 
shipin'  beauty,  worshipin'  the  creature  instead  of  the 
creator." 

Says  I,  "  Can  you  tell  me,  Kellup,  what  that  spirit 
of  beauty  is,  that  you  are  so  sot  aginst?"  Says  I, 
feelin'  more  and  more  eloquent  as  I  dove  further  and 
further  into  the  depths  of  the  subject  than  I  had 
doven — and  the  more  I  went  on  about  it  the  more 
carried  away  I  wuz  and  lost,  till  before  I  had  gone  on 
2  minutes  I  was  entirely  by  the  side  of  myself,  and 
carried  completely  out  of  Kellup  Cobb's  presence,  out 
of  Josiah  Allen's  kitchen,  out  into  the  mighty  waste  of 
mystery  that  floats  all  round  Jonesville  and  the  world : 

"  What  is  this  spirit  of  beauty — there  is  something, 
some  hidden  spirit,  some  soul  of  inspiration,  in  all 
beautiful  things,  pictures,  poetry,  melody — a  spirit  that 
forever  eludes  us,  flies  before  us,  and  yet  smiles  down 
into  our  souls  forever  with  haunting,  glorious  eyes. 
What  is  this  wonderful  spirit,  this  insperation  that 
thrills  us  so  in  all  sweetest  and  saddest  melodies,  in 
lovely  landscapes,  in  the  soft  song  of  the  summer 
wind,  and  the  mournful  refrain  of  ocean  waves,  in 
sunset,  and  the  weird  stillness  of  a  starry  midnight  ? 


THE  SOUL'S  LONGINGS.  147 

That  thrills  us  so  in  all  glorified  legends  of  heroism — 
and  in  that  divinest  poem  of  a  noble  life. — That  haunts 
us,  and  so  fills  our  souls  with  longing  that  sometimes 
we  imagine  we  can  catch  a  glimpse  of  it  in  the  clear 
look  of  some  inspired  eye ;  but  almost  e'er  we  behold 
it,  it  is  gone.  Some  fleetin'  echo  of  whose  voice  we 
fancy  we  have  caught  in  the  lofty  refrain  of  some 
heavenly  melody — but,  e'er  our  soul  could  hardly  listen, 
the  sweet  strain  was  drowned  in  the  discord  of  human 
voices.  Ah!  sometimes  the  veil  has  seemed  but  thin 
between  us,  as  we  stood  for  brief,  blissful  moments  on 
the  mountain  tops  of  our  best  and  noblest  emotions, 
so  transparent,  and  glowing  with  inner  brightness, 
that  we  could  almost  behold  the  face  of  an  angel 
behind  the  shining  barriers.  But  the  mists  swept 
coldly  up,  and  the  sweet  face  was  lost  in  the  cloudy, 
earthly  vapors. 

"  If  we  could  reach  it,  if  we  could  once  reach  out  our 
longing  arms,  and  touch  that  wonderful,  illusive  soul  of 
beauty,  if  we  could  hold  it  with  our  weak,  mortal  grasp, 
and  look  upon  it  face  to  face — can  you  tell  me,  Kellup, 
what  it  would  be?  Can  you  tell  me  how  pure,  and 
holy,  and  divine  a  shape  it  would  be  ?  The  Ideal  of 
Beauty  that  forever  rises  before  us — this  longing  for 
perfection  implanted  in  our  souls  ?  We  cannot  believe 
by  bad  spirits,  but  by  the  Ever  Good.  This  ideal  that 
every  poet  and  artist  soul  has  longed  for,  prayed  for, 
but  never  reached — this  ideal  of  purity  which  we  strive 
to  mould  in  clay;  poor,  crumblin',  imperfect  clay,  that 


148  KELLUP  CHANGES  THE  SUBJECT. 

will  not,  however  earnestly  we  toil,  take  the  clear 
shape  of  our  dreams.  Can  you  tell  me,  Kellup,  that 
it  is  not  the  longing  of  the  mortal  for  the  immortal, 
the  deathless  cry  of  the  human  for  the  divine  ? 

"  To  me,  it  is  the  surest  proof  of  immortality.  For 
we  know  that  our  God  is  not  cruel,  and  we  cannot 
think  He  would  hold  out  to  us  a  lovely  gift  only  to 
mock  us  with  glimpses  of  its  glory,  and  then  withdraw 
it  from  us  forever. 

"And  this  ideal  of  perfection  that  we  have  so  striven 
and  prayed  to  realize — perhaps  these  longings  and 
strivings  are  perfecting  that  image  in  our  lives,  unbe- 
known to  us ;  and  when  the  clay  that  wraps  it  round 
drops  off,  shall  we  behold  it  in  glad  wonder  in  the  land 
of  the  King  ?  Shall  we  see  that  the  dull  stroke  of  care 
and  the  keen  blow  of  suffering  helped  most  to  mould 
it  into  beauty  ?  Surely,  surely,  He  will  one  day  give 
the  desire  of  our  souls.  Surely  there  is  a  land  of 
immortal  purity,  immortal  beauty,  where  to  the  souls 
of  all  who  truly  aspire  the  dim  shadow  light  of  our 
hope  will  be  lost  in  the  bright  glory  of  fulfillment." 

Says  Kellup,  castin'  the  witherin'est  look  onto  my 
head-dress  that  he  had  cast  onto  it,  and  clingin'  close 
to  his  old  idee,  as  close  as  a  idee  ever  was  clung  to, 
says  he,  comin'  out  plain : 

"  That  head-dress  is  a  shame,  and  a  disgrace.  You 
wouldn't  ketch  me  in  no  such  extravagance.  The 
money  had  better  have  been  took  and  distributed  round 
amongst  the  poorer  classes  in  the  country." 


THE  TIGHT  ONES  OF  EARTH.  149 

I  don't  s'pose  I  ort  to,  and  I  don't  know  exactly  how 
it  happened  that  I  did,  but  I  won't  deny  it,  that  comin' 
down  so  awful  sudden  off  of  the  height  of  eloquence 
I  had  been  a  soarin'  on,  bein'  brought  down  so  awful 
short  and  sort  o'  onexpected,  it  did,  and  I  won't  deny 
it,  it  did,  for  as  much  as  a  minute  and  a  half ,  make  me 
mad.  It  sort  o'  jarred  me  all  over,  and  I  spoke  up 
sharp,  and  says  I : 

"  There  are  exceptions  to  every  ruler,  as  scholars 
have  always  said.  But  as  a  general  thing,  the  people 
who  deny  themselves  all  the  beauty  and  brightness  of 
life,  are  the  very  ones  who  deny  it  to  others.  Those 
who  talk  the  most  about  others'  extravagance,  and 
what  great  things  they  would  do  if  they  was  in  other 
folks'es  places,  are  the  very  ones  who,  if  they  wuz 
there,  wouldn't  do  nothin'.  It  is  the  tight  ones  of 
earth  who  talk  the  most  about  looseness :  how  awful 
loose  they  would  be  under  certain  circumstances.  But 
I  believe,  and  Josiah  duz,  that  they  wouldn't  under  the 
very  loosest  circumstances  ever  be  loose,  but  would 
always  be  tight.  And  them  .who  says  the  least  often 
does  the  most.  Them  who  scold  the  least  about  other 
folks'es  duty,  often  do  their  own  duty  the  best.  Curi- 
ous. But  so  it  is. 

"And  those  who  love  to  put  beauty  into  their  own 
lives,  are  often  the  ones  who  love  to  bless  other  lives 
— are  the  ones  whose  hearts  ache  at  the  pleading  of  a 
sorrowful  eye — whose  hearts  thrill  clear  to  their  center 
at  the  voice  of  a  hungry  child. 
' 


150 


A  GUIDING  HAND. 


"And  if  the  heart  is 
thrilled  in  the  right  way, 
that  thrill  always  trem- 
bles right  down  into  the 
portmoney,  and  trembles 
it  open,  and  jars  the 
money  right  out  of  it. 
The  money  that  will 
make  that  hungry  cry 
change  into  a -thankful 
one,  and  that  wistful 
look  change  into  a  re- 
joicin'  one. 

"Why,"  says  I  in  a 
earnest,  lofty  tone, 
wantin'  to  convince  him, 
"  look  at  that  female  I 
have  been  a  talkin' 
about;  look  at  Nater. 
See  what  she  duz.  You 
have  had  to  give  up 
that  no  other  female 
ever  loved  the  beautiful 
as  she  duz.  And  you 
have  got  to  give  up  that 
no  other  female  was 
ever  so  great-hearted,  so 
compassionate  and  gen- 
erous." 


JOSIAH'S  STUN-BOLT.  151 

And  havin'  by  this  time  got  all  over  my  little  tem- 
porary madness,  I  went  on  agin  about  her,  beautiful. 
Somehow  I  always  do  talk  eloquent  about  Nater.  I 
guess  it  is  because  I  think  so  much  of  her. 

Says  I :  "No  tenderer  care  does  she  give  to  the  mon- 
arch on  his  throne  than  she  gives  to  the  little  bare-foot 
peasant  child,  or  the  little  foolish  sparrer.  She  takes 
no  greater  thought  to  guide  the  great  ship  freighted 
with  noble  lives,  and  help  her  plow  her  way  through 
the  billows,  than  she  takes  to  guide  the  way  of  the  sea- 
bird  over  the  wild  waters,  or  the  flight  of  the  frightened 
northern  birds  fleeing  southward  through  the  trackless 
sky  before  the  snows. 

"  Good  to  all,  generous,  helpful  to  all,  patient  to  all. 
And  at  the  last  she  just  opens  her  loving  arms  and 
gives  rest  to  all,  simple  and  gentle,  serf  and  monarch; 
to  the  prosperous  and  happy,  and  to  all  the  heavy- 
hearted,  all  the  broken-hearted,  all  the  worn,  the  de- 
feated, the  despairin'  souls ;  the  saint  and  the  sinner 
alike,  without  rebuking  or  questioning ;  she  jest  reaches 
out  her  arms  to  them  all,  and  gives  them  rest." 

Says  Kellup:  "I  guess  I'll  go  out  and  look  at 
Josiah's  new  stun-bolt.  I  don't  know  but  what  I  shall 
want  to  borry  it  bimeby  to  draw  some  stuns." 

And  he  started  off — and  I  was  glad  he  dido 


JOSIAH  UNDERTAKES  MORE  BUSINESS. 

WALL  that  was  the  very  night,  as  I  said,  that 
Josiah  Allen  come  home  so  awful  cross. 
And  what  under  the  sun  ailed  him  I  could  not  imagine. 
He  had  been  clever  when  he  left  home, — very;  he 
had  had  a  extra  good  breakfast,  and  he  was  the  picture 
of  happiness ;  and  his  morals  seemed  stiddy  and  firm. 
And  comin'  off  so  sudden  onto  such  fearful  fractious- 
ness,  it  worried  me. 

But  little  did  I  think  he  was  plannin'  more  head- 
work.  If  I  had  I  should  have  worried  fur  more.  But 
he  wuz.  Old  Ben  Mandagool,  a  friend  of  Josiah's,  was 
takin'  in  boarders,  and  makin'  money  by  'em.  And 
that  very  day  (unbeknown  to  me)  he  had  throwed 
them  boarders,  six  of  'em,  into  Josiah's  face,  and  the 
pile  of  money  he  had  made  by  'em,  and  twitted  him 
that  if  it  wasn't  for  his  wife  he  could  make  jest  as 
mucli.  Old  Mandagool  knew  well  how  I  felt  about 
takin'  in  boarders ;  he  knew  I  was  principled  against 
it,  and  sot.  Mandagool  misuses  his  wife  shamefully ; 

(152) 


JOSIAH  FEELS  CROSS.  153 

makes  a  perfect  underlin'  of  her;  works  her  down  to 
skin  and  bone;  they  don't  live  happy  together  at  all. 
And  he  seems  to  be  envious  of  anybody  that  does  live 
agreeable  with  their  pardner,  and  loves  to  break  it  up. 
And  so  it  went  on  for  a  number  of  days ;  he  a  twittin' 
Josiah  how  if  it  wuzn't  for  his  wife  he  could  have  his 
way,  and  make  money,  (and  Josiah  loves  to  have  his 
own  way  dearly.)  and  throwin'  them  half  a  dozen 
boarders  into  his  face,  and  it  hain't  no  wonder  that 
Josiah  felt  hurt.  And  it  hain't  no  wonder,  constituted 
as  men  be,  that  he  was  exceedingly  cross  to  me.  But 
knowin'  how  cast-iron  my  mind  was  when  it  was  made 
up,  he  never  let  on  what  ailed  him.  And  I  was  skairt 
most  to  death  to  see  him  look  so  mauger,  and  act  so 
restless  and  oneasy,  and  crosser'n  any  bear  out  of  a 
circus. 

How  strange  and  mysterious  things  be  in  this  world. 
Lots  and  lots  of  things  we  can  see  the  effects  of, — 
powerful  effects, — but  can't  ketch  a  glimpse  of  the 
causes.  I  could  see  the  crossness,  and  bear  it ;  but 
what  the  cause  of  it  was,  was  concealed  from  me  by  a 
impenetrable  vail.  And  I,  jest  as  poor,  blind  mortal 
bein's  will  do,  when  they  stand  in  front  of  mysteries, 
and  don't  want  to  own  they  are  puzzled  by  'em,  would 
make  up  reasons  in  my  own  mind,  and  call  'em  facts. 
Thinkses  I  to  myself:  he  is  a  cnjoyin'  poor  health,  or 
else  he  is  a  gettin'  back-slid.  And  one  day  I  says  to 
him,  says  I : 

'•  Josiah  Allen,  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?    You 


154 


CATNIP  AND  THOROUGHWORT. 


don't  act  like  the  same  man  you  did  several  days  ago. 

I  am  goin'  to  steep  up  some  catnip  and  thoroughwort 

tea,  and  see  if  it  won't  make  you  feel  better, — and 

some  boneset." 

"  I  don't  want  none  of  your  boneset  and  catnip." 
Says  I :  "  You  know,  Josiah  Allen,  that  you  are 
enjoyin'  very  poor 
health.  You  enjoy  as 
bad  agin  health  as  you 
did  along  in  the  win- 
ter." 


WHAT'S  THE  MATTER,  JOSIAH?" 


"  My  health  is  well  enough,"  says  he  sort  o'  surly 
like. 

"  Wall  then,"  says  I  in  still  more  anxious  tones,  "  if 
it  hain't  your  health  that  is  a  sufferin',  is  it  your  mor- 


SUMTfflN1  ON  HIS  MIND.  ]55 

als  ?  Do  they  feel  totterin',  Josiah  ?  Tell  jour  pard- 
ner  how  they  feel." 

"  Dummit,  my  morals  feel  all  right." 

Says  I  sternly :  "  Stop  that  swearin'  instantly  and  to 
once."  And  I  went  on  in  reasonable  tones :  "  If  you 
hain't  enjoyin'  poor  health,  Josiah,  and  your  morals 
are  firm,  why  is  there  such  a  change  in  your  mean?" 
Says  I :  "  Your  mean  don't  look  no  more  like  your  old 
one  than  if  it  belonged  to  another  man." 

But  instead  of  answerin'  my  affectionate  and  anxious 
inquiries,  he  jumped  up  and  started  for  the  barn.  And 
so  it  went  on  for  over  4  days ;  I  a  knowin'  sunthin' 
ailed  him,  and  couldn't  get  him  to  tell ;  he  a  growin' 
crosser  and  crosser,  and  lookin'  maugerer  and  mau- 
gerer,  and  I  a  growin'  alarmed  about  him  to  that  ex- 
tent that  I  knew  not  what  to  do.  And  finally  one 
mornin'  to  the  breakfast  table,  I  says  to  him  in  tones 
that  would  be  answered : 

"Josiah  Allen,  you  are  carryin'  sunthin'  on  your 
mind."  And  says  I  firmly :  "  Your  mind  hain't  strong 
enough  to  carry  it  alone ;  your  pardner  must  and  will 
help  you  carry  it."  He  see  determination  in  my  eye- 
brow, and  he  finally  up  and  told  me.  How  he  was  a 
hankerin'  to  take  in  summer  boarders ;  how  he  wanted 
to  get  back  the  money  he  had  lost  in  some  way,  and 
lie  knew  there  was  piles  and  piles  of  money  to  be  made 
by  it;  and  it  was  such  pretty  business,  too, — nothin' 
but  fun  to  take  'em  in ;  anybody  could  take  such  per- 
fect comfort  with  'em,  besides  bein'  so  awful  profitable ; 


156  A  WILD  COMMOTION. 

and  knowin'  my  principles  rose  up  like  cast-iron  against 
the  idee,  it  was  a  wearin'  on  him. 

I  didn't  say  nothin'.  Some  wimmen  would  have 
throwed  Jonathan  Spink  and  his  wife  in  her  pardner's 
face,  and  some  wimmen  would  have  throwed  the  twin 
and  the  hull  of  the  family.  But  I  didn't.  I  knew  my 
pardner  was  a  sufferin'  fearfully,  and  my  affection  for 
him  is  like  a  ox'es,  as  has  been  often  remarked.  No, 
I  only  said  in  a  cold,  cautious  tone :  "  Will  you  pass 
me  the  buckwheat-cakes,  Josiah,  and  the  syrup  ?" 

But  them  words,  them  buckwheat-cakes,  was  only  a 
vail  (as  it  were)  that  I  threw  over  my  feelin's,  tryin' 
to  hide  'cm  from  my  pardner.  For  oh !  what  a  wild 
commotion  was  goin'  on  inside  of  me  between  my  prin- 
ciples and  my  affection.  And  of  all  the  wars  that  ever 
devastated  the  world,  that  is  the  most  fearful ;  though 
it  may  be  like  many  others,  a  silent  warfare.  Yes, 
when  love — such  a  love  as  my  love  for  Josiah — and 
principles  strong  and  hefty  as  my  principles  are,  get  to 
fightin'  with  each  other,  and  kickin'  back  and  forth, 
and  ragin',  and  as  I  may  say,  in  a  practical  and  figura- 
tive way,  snortin'  and  prancin', — then  ensues  and  fol- 
lers  on  a  time  long  to  be  remembered. 

I  was  principled  against  takin'  in  summer  boarders. 
I  had  seen  'em  took  in,  time  and  agin,  and  seen  the 
effects  of  it,  and  I  had  said,  and  said  calmly,  that  for 
people  like  us  boarders  was  a  moth.  I  had  said,  and 
felt,  that  when  a  woman  does  her  own  housework  it 
was  all  she  ort  to  do  to  take  care  of  her  own  men  folks, 


A   POETICAL    SIMELY. 


FOREIGN  SCHOONERS.  159 


and  her  house,  and  housen  stuff,  and  common  run  of 
visitors, — and  hired  girls  I  was  immovably  sot  against 
from  my  birth. 

Home  seemed  to  me  to  be  a  peaceful  haven,  jest 
large  enough  for  two  barks, — Josiah's  bark  and  my 
bark, — and  when  foreign  schooners  (to  foller  up  my 
poetical  simely) ,  when  foreign  schooners  and  periogers 
sailed  in,  they  generally  proved  to  be  ships  of  war, 
pirate  fleets  stealin'  happiness  and  ease,  and  runnin' 
up  the  skeliton  of  our  dead  joys  at  their  mast-heads. 
But  I  am  a  episodin',  and  wanderin'  off  into  fields  of 
poesy,  and  to  resoom  and  go  on: 

It  would  be  in  vain  and  only  harrow  up  the  read- 
er's feclin's  to  tell  how  the  long  struggle  went  on 
inside  of  my  mind.  But  when  I  say  that  my  pardner 
daily  grew  before  my  eyes  crosser  and  more  fearfully 
cross,  and  mauger  and  more  awfully  mauger,  any 
female  woman  who  has  got  a  beloved  companion,  and 
a  heart  inside  of  her  breast  bones,  knows  how  the  con- 
flict ended.  I  yielded  and  gin  in,  and  the  very  day  I 
gin  my  consent  Josiah  went  and  engaged  'em.  He'd 
heard  of  'em  from  old  Mandagool.  He  had  boarded 
'em  the  summer  before,  and  he  said  they  wanted  to  get 
board  again  in  Jonesville,  though  for  some  reason 
Mandagool  didn't  seem  to  want  to  board  'em  himself. 
I  thought  to  myself  that  looked  squally.  I  never  liked 
old  Mandagool, — not  for  a  minute, — but  I  didn't  say  a 
word.  Neither  did  I  say  anything  when  he  told  me 
there  was  4  childern  in  the  family  that  was  a  comin'. 


160  JOSIAH  FIQGERS. 


No ;  I  held  firm.  The  job  was  undertook  by  me  for 
the  savin'  of  my  pardner.  I  had  undertook  it  in  a 
martyr  way,  and  I  wuzn't  goin'  to  spile  the  job  by 
murmerin's  and  complainin's. 

But  oh !  how  animated  Josiah  Allen  was  the  day  he 
come  back  from  engagin'  of  'em.  His  appetite  come 
back  powerfully ;  he  eat  a  immense  dinner.  His  cross- 
ness had  disappeared,  his  affectionate  demeanor  all 
returned ;  he  would  have  acted  as  spoony  as  my  big 
iron  spoon  if  he  had  had  so  much  as  a  crumb  of  en- 
couragement from  me.  But  I  didn't  encourage  him. 
There  was  a  loftiness  and  majesty  in  my  mean  (caused 
by  my  principles)  that  almost  awed  him.  I  looked 
first-rate,  and  acted  so.  But  oh,  how  highlarious 
Josiah  Allen  was !  He  was  goin'  to  make  so  much 
money  by  'em.  Says  he,  with  a  happy  look : 

"  If  a  man  loses  money  by  one  speck,  he  must  launch 
out  into  another  speck  and  get  it  back  again."  Says 
he:  "I  have  tried  to  make  money  easy,  time  and 
agin,  and  now  I  have  hit  the  nail  on  the  head ;  now  I 
can  make  up  my  loss,  and  get  independently  rich. 
Why,  besides  the  pure  happiness  we  shall  enjoy  with 
'em,  the  solid  comfort,  jest  think  of  four  dollars  a 
week  for  the  man  and  his  wife,  and  two  dollars  a  piece 
for  the  childern.  Less  see,"  says  he  dreamily: 

" Twice  4  is  8,  and  no  orts  to  carry;  4  times  2  is  8, 
and  8  and  8  is  16.  Sixteen  dollars  a  week.  Why, 
Samantha,"  says  he,  "that  will  support  us;  there  hain't 


A  FORTUNE  AT  LAST. 


161 


no  need  of  our  liftin'  our  fingers  agin,  if  we  could  only 
keep  'em  right  here  with  us  always." 

"  Who  is  goin'  to  cook  and  wait  on  'em  ? "  says  I 
almost  coldly.  Not  real  cold,  but  sort  o'  coolish  like. 
For  I  hain't  one  when  I  tackle  a  cross  to  go  carryin' 
it  along  groanin'  and  cryin'  out  loud  all  the  way.  No! 
if  I  can't  carry  it  cheerfully,  I'll  drop  it.  So,  as  I  say, 
my  tone  wasn't 
frigid,  but  sort 
o '  cool  1  i  ke. 
"  Who'll  wait  on 
'em?" 

"Get  a  girl! 
get  two  girls ! 
Think  of  sixteen 
dollars  a  week. 
You  can  keep  a 
variety  of  hired 
girls  if  you  want 
to.  Yes,"  says 
he,  with  a  blissful 
expression  and 
joyous  axcnt, 
"besides  the 
sweet  rest  and  comfort  we  are  a  goin'  to  take  with 
'em,  we  can  have  everything  else  we  want.  Thank 
Heaven  we  have  now  got  a  cornpeatency." 

"  Wall,"  says  I  in  the  same  tones,  or  about  the  same, 
—coolish,  but  not  frigid, — "  time  will  tell." 


JOSIAH'S  IDEE. 


162 


ON  TIME. 


Wall,  they  come  on  a  Monday  mornin',  on  the  six 
o'clock  train.  Josiah  had  to  meet  'em  to  the  depot, 
and  he  was  so  afraid  he 
should  miss  'em,  and 
somebody  else  would 
undermine  him,  and  get 
'em  as  boarders,  that  he 
was  up  about  three  o'clock, 
and  went  out  and  milked 
by  candle-light,  so's  to  be 


EARLY   BIKD8. 


sure  and  be  there  in  season.     And  I  had  to  get  up 
and  get  his  breakfast  before  daylight,  feelin'  like  a 


EXPECTIN'  THE  DANES.  163 

a  fool,  too,  for  he  kep'  me  awake  all  night  a' most, 
walkin'  round  the  house,  and  fallin'  over  chairs  and 
things, — sort  o'  gropin'  round, — lightin'  matches  to 
look  at  the  clock  to  see  what  time  it  was.  And  if  he 
said  to  me  once,  he  said  30  times  durin'  that  night: 
"  It  would  be  jest  my  luck  to  have  somebody  get  in 
ahead  of  me  to  the  cars,  and  undcrmind  me  at  the  last 
minute,  and  get  'em  away  from  me." 

Says  I,  in  dry  tones  (not  so  dry  as  I  had  used,  but 
dryish)  :  "I  guess  there  won't  be  no  danger,  Josiah." 

But  the  very  last  thing  I  heard  him  say,  in  fearful 
and  fractious  tones,  as  he  got  into  that  democrat,  was: 
"  It  would  be  jest  like  old  Mandagool  to  undermind 
me." 

Wall,  about  a  quarter  to  7  he  driv  up  with  'cm.  A 
tall,  spindlin',  waspish-lookin'  woman,  and  4  childern. 
The  man,  they  said,  wasn't  comin'  till  Saturday  night. 
I  thought  the  woman  had  a  singular  look  to  her  when 
I  first  see  her,  and  so  did  the  oldest  boy,  who  was 
about  13  years  old.  I  thought  he  looked  dretful  white 
in  the  face,  and  sort  o'  strange  like.  He  looked  like 
his  ma,  only  he  wa*s  fleshy, — dretful  sort  o'  fleshy, — 
flabby  like.  And  as  they  walked  up  from  the  gate, 
side  by  side,  I  thought  I  never  in  my  hull  life  see  a 
waspisher  and  spindlener  woman,  or  a  curiouser  lookin' 
couple.  The  other  3  childern  that  come  behind  seemed 
to  be  pretty  much  of  a  age,  and  looked  healthy,  and 
full  of  the  old  Harry,  as  we  found  out  afterwards  they 
indeed  was. 


164  MYSTERIOUS  APPETITES. 

Wall,  I  had  a  hard  tussle  of  it  through  the  day  to 
cook  and  do  for  'em.  Their  appetites  was  tremenjous, 
specially  the  woman  and  the  oldest  boy.  They  wasn't 
healthy  appetites.  I  could  see  that  in  a  minute. 
Their  eyes  would  look  holler  and  hungry,  and  they 
would  look  voraciously  at  the  empty  deep  dishes  and 
tureens,  after  they  had  eat  'em  all  empty, — eat  enough 
for  4  men.  Why,  it  did  heat  all.  Josiah  looked  at 
me  in  silent  wonder  and  dismay,  as  he  see  the  vittles 
disappeer  before  that  woman  and  boy.  The  other 
three  childern  eat  about  as  common  healthy  childern  do, 
— each  of  'em  about  twice  what  Josiah  and  me  did.  But 
there  wasn't  nothin'  mysterious  about  them.  But  the 
woman  and  boy  made  me  feel  curious,  curiouser  than 
I  had  ever  felt,  for  truly  I  thought  to  myself  if  their 
legs  and  arms  hain't  holler,  how  do  they  hold  it.  It 
was  to  me  a  new  and  interesting  spectacle,  to  be 
studied  over  and  filosofied  upon.  But  to  Josiah  it  was 
a  canker,  as  I  see  the  very  first  meal.  I  could  see  by 
the  looks  of  his  mean  that  them  two  appetites  was 
sunthin'  he  hadn't  reckoned  and  calculated  upon. 
And  I  could  see  plain,  havin'  watched  the  changes  of 
my  pardner's  mean  as  close  as  astronomers  watch  the 
moon,  I  could  see  that  them  two  appetites  was  a 
wearin'  on  him. 

Wall,  I  thought  mebby  they  was  kinder  starved  out, 
comin'  right  from  a  city  boardin'-house,  and  a  few  of 
my  good  meals  would  quell  'em  down. 

But  no,  instead  of  growin'  lighter  them  two  appe- 


OUR  BOARDERS. 


WHAT  THE  MATTER  WAS.  167 

tites  of  their' n  seemed,  if  possible,  to  grow  consuminer 
and  consuminer,  though  I  cooked  lavish  and  profuse, 
as  I  always  did.  They  devoured  everything  before 
'em,  and  looked  hungry  and  wistful  at  the  plates  and 
table-cloth.  Josiah  looked  on  in  perfect  agony  I  knew, 
though  he  didn't  say  nothin'  (he  is  very  close).  And 
it  seemed  so  awfully  mysterious  to  me.  I  would  get 
so  lost  reasonin'  and  felosifyin'  on  it;  whether  their 
legs  was  holler  or  not  holler ;  and  if  they  was  holler, 
how  they  could  walk  round  on  'em ;  and  if  they  wasn't 
holler,  where  the  vittles  went  to.  Why,  studyin'  so 
deep  into  it,  bringin'  all  the  deep  scientific  facts  I 
could  think  on  to  bear  onto  it,  1  don't  know  but  I 
should  have  gone  ravin'  distracted  if  she  hadn't  herself 
up  and  told  me  what  the  matter  was. 

They  had  got  tape-worms — she  and  the  oldest  boy ; 
immense  ones,  so  the  doctor  said,  and  they  had  to  eat 
to  satisfy  'em.  That  explained  it,  and  I  felt  relieved. 
And  I  told  Josiah,  for  I  love  that  man,  and  love  to 
happify  him  when  I  possibly  can.  But  if  you'll  believe 
it,  that  man  was  mad ;  and  ho  vowed  he  would  charge 
extra  for  'em.  It  was  after  we  went  to  bed  I  told  him, 
and  I  had  to  talk  low,  for  their  room  was  right  over 
our'n.  Says  I,  in  a  low  but  firm  whisper: 

"Don't  you  do  no  such  thing,  Josiah  Allen.  Do 
you  realize  how  it  would  look ;  what  a  sound  it  would 
have  to  community?" 

"Wall,"  he  hollered  out,  "do  you  s'pose  I  am  goin' 
to  board  all  the  tape-worms  in  the  world  free  of  ex- 


168  JOSIAH  CATCHE8  FITS. 

pense?  Do  you  s'pose  I  am  goin'  to  have  'cm  all  con- 
gregate here,  and  be  boarded  on  me  for  nothin'  ?  1 
took  men  and  wimmcn  and  childern  to  board.  I  didn't 
agree  to  board  anything  else,  and  I  won't,  nuthcr.  It 
wuzn't  in  the  bill." 

"Do  you  keep  still,  Josiah  Allen.  She'll  hear  you," 
1  whispered. 

"  I  say  it  wuzn't  in  the  bill,"  he  hollered  out  agin. 
I  s'pose  he  meant  it  wasn't  in  the  bargain,  but  he  was 
nearly  delirious  (he  is  very  close — nearly  tight). 
But  jest  that  minute, — before  I  could  say  a  word, — 
we  heard  a  awful  noise  right  over  our  heads ;  it  sounded 
as  if  the  hull  top  of  the  house  had  fell  in. 

Says  Josiah:  "The  old  chimbly  has  fell  in." 

Says  I :  "I  think  it  is  the  ruff." 

And  we  both  started  for  up-stairs  on  the  run.  I 
sent  him  back  from  the  head  of  the  stairs,  for  in  the 
awful  fright  he  hadn't  realized  his  condition,  and  wasn't 
dressed.  I  waited  for  him  at  the  top  of  the  stairs,  for 
to  tell  the  truth,  I  dassent  go  on.  He  hurried  on  his 
clothes,  and  went  in  ahead, — and  there  she  lay ;  there 
Miss  Danks  was  on  the  floor  in  a  historical  fit.  Josiah, 
thinkin'  she  was  dead,  run  in  and  ketched  her  up,  and 
•went  to  puttin'  her  on  the  bed ;  and  she,  jest  as  they 
will  in  historicks,  clawed  right  into  his  hair,  and  tore 
out  above  half  he  had  on  that  side.  She  then  struck 
him  a  fearful  blow  in  the  eye — made  it  black  and  blue 
for  over  two  weeks.  She  didn't  know  what  she  was 


AN  OBJECT  OF  PITY.  169 

about;  she  wuzn't  to  blame — though  the  hair  was  a 
great  loss  to  him,  and  I  won't  deny  it. 

Wall,  we  stood  over  her  most  all  night  to  keep  the 
breath  of  life  in  her;  and  the  oldest  boy,  bein'  skairt, 
it  brought  on  some  fits  that  he  was  in  the  habit  of 
havin', — a  sort  of  fallin'  fits;  he  would  fall  anywheres; 
he  fell  onto  Josiah  twice  that  night,  and  almost  knocked 
him  down.  He  was  awful  large  for  his  age ;  dretful 
big  and  fat.  It  seemed  as  if  there  was  sunthin'  wrong 
about  his  heft,  it  was  so  oncommon  hefty  for  a  boy  of 
his  age.  He  looked  bloated.  His  eyes,  which  was  a 
pale  blue,  seemed  to  be  kinder  sot  back  in  his  head, 
and  his  cheeks  stood  out  below,  some  like  baloons  ;  and 
his  mouth  was  kinder  open  a  good  deal  of  the  time,  as 
if  it  was  hard  work  for  him  to  breathe ;  he  breathed 
thick  and  wheezy, — dretful  oncomfortable.  His  com 
plexion  was  bad,  too;  sallow  and  sort  o'  tallery  lookin'. 
He  acted  dretful  logy  and  heavy  at  the  best  of  times, 
and  in  them  fits  he  was  as  heavy  and  helpless  as  lead. 

Wall,  that  was  the  third  night  after  they  got  there, 
and  from  that  night,  as  long  as  they  stayed  there,  she 
had  the  historicks  frequent  and  violent,  and  Bill  had 
his  fallin'  fits.  And  you  wouldn't  believe  if  you  hadn't 
seen  'em,  how  many  things  he  broke  a  fallin'  on  'em 
in  them  fits.  It  beat  all  how  unfortunate  he  was. 
They  always  come  onto  him  unexpected,  and  it  seemed 
as  if  they  would  always  come  onto  him  while  he  was 
in  front  of  sunthin'  to  smash  all  to  bits.  And  I  says 
to  Josiah,  says  I :  "  Did  you  ever  see,  Josiah  Allen,  any- 
7 


170 


A  TIGHT  SQUEEZE. 


body  so  unfortunate  as  that  boy  in  his  fits  ?    It  seems 

as  if  he'll  break  everything  in  the  house  if  it  goes  on." 

Says  he,  "Tis  a  pity  his  cussed  neck  don't  break!*' 


A  SURPRISED  COLT. 

I  don't  know  as  I  ever  gin  Josiah  Allen  a  firmer, 
eloqucnter  lecture  against  swearin'  than  I  did  then. 
But  in  my  heart  I  pitied  him,  for  it  was  only  the  day 
before  that  lie  fell  as  he  was  a  lookin'  at  the  colt.  It 
was  only  a  week  old,  but  Josiah  sot  his  eyes  by  it,  and 
the  boy  was  admirin'  of  it — there  wasn't  nothin'  ugly 
about  him — but  a  fit  come  on,  and  he  fell  onto  the  colt, 
and  the  colt  not  expectin'  of  it,  and  bein'  unprepared, 
fell  flat  down,  and  the  boy  on  it ;  and  the  colt  jest  lived, 


A  SMASHING  BUSINESS.  171 


that  is  all.  Josiah  says  it  never  will  be  worth  any 
thing  ;  he  thinks  it  broke  sunthin'  inside.  As  1  said, 
there  wasn't  a  ugly  thing  about  Bill.  He'd  be  awful 
sorry  when  he  broke  things,  and  squshed  'em,  and 
flatted  'em  all  out  a  fallin'  on  'em. 

All  I  blamed  him  for  was  his  prowlin'  round  so 
much.  I  thought  then,  and  I  think  still,  seein'  he 
knew  his  own  heft,  and  knew  he  had  'em,  and  was 
liable  to  have  'em,  he'd  done  better  to  have  kep'  still, 
and  not  tried  to  got  round  so  much.  But  his  mother 
said  he  felt  restless  and  oneasy.  I  couldn't  help  likin' 
the  boy  ;  and  when  he  fell  right  into  my  bread  that  1 
had  a  risin'  and  spilte  the  hull  batch,  and  when  he  fell 
*  acrost  the  table  in  the  parlor  and  broke  everything 
that  was  on  it,  and  when  he  fell  onto  a  chicken-coop 
and  broke  it  down  and  killed  a  hull  brood  of  chickens, 
and  when  he  fell  onto  some  tomato  plants  of  a  extra 
kind  which  Josiah  had  bought  at  a  great  expense  and 
sot  out,  and  broke  'cm  off  short,  I  didn't  feel  like 
scoldin'  him.  I  s'pose  it  was  my  hefty  principles  that 
boyed  me  up ;  them  and  the  sweet  thought  that  would 
come  to  me — mebby  Josiah  Allen  will  hear  to  me 
another  time,  mebby  he'll  get  sick  of  summer  boarders 
and  to  takin'  of  'em  in. 

I  s'pose  it  was  these  lofty  feelin's  that  kep'  me  up ; 
truly  if  it  hadn't  been  I  don't  know  how  I  could  have 
lived,  cookin'  as  much  as  I  had  to,  and  goin'  through 
with  what  I  did,'  histories,  and  fallin'  fits,  and  etcetery, 
eteetery. 


172 


INDUSTRIOUS  CHILDREN. 


And  the  3  smaller  children  was  ugly ;  there  haint 
no  other  name  made  that  will  describe  their  demen- 
ors  and  acts,  only  jest  that  word,  ugly. 

They  made  me  more  work  than  all  my  housework  put 
together.  A  handlin'  everything,  and  a  breakin'  every- 
thing, and  a  ridin'  the  turkeys,  and  actin',  and  per- 

formin'. 

Isposethey 
was  told 
more'n  a  hun- 
dred times  by 
meandJosiah 
to  not  ride 
that  turkey 
gobbler.  And 
I  don't  spose 
there  was 
ever  any  other 
children  on 
earth,  only 
jest  them  3, 
that  would 
have  dast  to 

gone  near  it.  Why,  I  have  seen  right-minded  and 
moral  children  time  and  agin  weep  and  cry  when  they 
seen  it  comin'  nigh  'em,  it  was  so  powerful  lookin', 
and  high-headed.  But  good  land  !  first  thing  I'd  know 
I'd  see  one  on  'em  right  on  that  gobbler,  pretendin'  to 
ride  it ;  they  almost  killed  that  Tom  Turkey. 


EXERCISING    THE   GOB15LER. 


WHERE  HE  MISSED  IT.  173 

And  then  all  of  a  sudden  we'd  hear  the  fannin'  mill 
a  goin'  full  blast,  and  Josiah  would  run  to  the  barn, 
and  there  they  would  be  a  rumiin'  dirt  through  it, 
slates,  stuns,  or  anything.  And  then  I'd  hear  t\\Q 
wheel  a  goin'  up  stairs,  buzzin'  as  if  it  would  break  its 
old  band,  and  up  I'd  go,  and  there  they'd  be  a  spinnin' 
of  my  best  rolls.  And  five  different  times  I  took  the 
youngest  one  out  of  the  flour  barrel,  where  they  was  a 
makin'  a  ghost  out  of  him,  to  appear  to  the  oldest  one 
— they  loved  to  scare  that  boy  into  fits,  they  loved  it 
dearly. 

And  they'd  lay  to  and  eat  between  meals  all  the  pre- 
serves and  jell  and  honey  they  could  get  holt  of,  unbe- 
known to  me;  they  wasted  twice  over  every  day  what 
their  board  come  to.  But  I  kep'  still,  and  held  firm. 
Thinkses  I  the  medicine  is  bitter,  but  it  is  goin'  to  do 
good ;  the  patient  is  feelin'  the  effects  of  it.  For  Jo- 
siah looked  awful  as  the  days  went  by.  He  see  he  had 
made  a  terrible  mistake  ;  he  see  that  he'd  done  better 
to  have  listened  to  his  faithful  pardner.  He  see  where 
he  had  missed  it.  But  pride  kep'  him  silent,  only  in 
the  little  unguarded  speeches  that  he  would  make  in 
sudden  moments  of  anger  and  agony,  unbeknown  to 
him.  Such  as  say  in'  in  loud,  quick  axents : 

"  Dummit,  I  can't  stand  it  so  much  longer."  Or  in 
low,  plaintive  tones,  "  Did  Heaven  ever  witness  such 
tribulation?" 

I'd  ketch  him  a  sayin'  that  as  he  would  be  a  bringin' 
Bill  in,  for  Josiah  would  have  to  lift  him  and  lug  him 


174  A  TOUGH  STRUGGLE. 

in  when  he  would  fall  out  doors.  That  in  itself  I 
could  see  was  a  underminin'  my  pardner's  strength 
and  his  back  bones.  And  I  shall  always  believe  that 
was  the  reason  why  Banks  stayed  out  of  the  way.  It 
was  underhanded  in  him ;  he  knew  that  boy  was  heavy 
as  lead,  and  he  knew  he  would  fall  when  he  had  'em, 
and  would  have  to  be  fetched  in,  and  so  lie  jest  stayed 
away  and  let  Josiah  do  all  the  luggin'  and  lifting 

It  was  three  weeks  before  that  man  come,  and  Josiah 
didn't  look  like  the  same  man.  What  with  chasin' 
after  them  three  littlest  boys,  and  carryin'  round  Bill 
in  his  fallin'  fits,  and  havin'  the  care  of  providin'  more 
provisions  than  was  ever  devoured  on  earth  before  by 
the  same  number  of  people,  and  bein'  kep'  awake 
night  after  night  by  Miss  Danks'es  historicks,  and  the 
oldest  boy's  walkin'  in  his  sleep  (I  don't  know  as  1 
have  mentioned  it,  but  Bill  was  liable  to  appear  to  us 
any  time,  and  have  to  be  headed  up  stairs  agin)  —take 
it  all  together,  Josiah  looked  like  a  shadder.  And 
thinkses  I  to  myself,  almost  wildly,  my  principles  was 
hefty,  and  they  are  hefty ;  I  have  said  I  would  stand 
firm,  and  I  have  stood  firm.  But  oh,  must  I,  must  I 
see  my  pardner  crumple  down  and  die  before  my  face 
and  eyes  ? 

It  was  Josiah's  pride  that  stood  in  the  way  of  his 
startin'  of  'em  off.  He  couldn't  bear  to  give  in  to  me 
that  he  was  in  the  wrong  on  it,  and  I  was  in  the  right 
on  it.  He  couldn't  bear  to  come  right  out  openly  and 
own  up  to  his  pardner  how  deceived,  and  fooled,  and 


A   HEAVY    BILL. 


BILL  BREAKS  THE  GRIN'-STUK  177 

took  in  lie  had  been.  Men's  pride  is  high,  it  towers 
up  like  a  meetin'-house  steeple,  and  when  it  tottles  and 
falls  down,  great  is  the  fall  thereof.  I  knew  this,  divin' 
into  the  mysterious  ingregiencies  of  men's  naters  so 
deep  as  I  had  doven,  I  knew  this  great  filisofical  fact  as 
well  as  I  knew  the  dimensions  of  the  nose  on  my 
pardner's  face.  And  so  I  shuddered  to  myself  as  I 
thought  it  over,  and  pondered  on  what  the  end  would 
be.  But  I  held  firm  on  the  outside,  and  never  let  on 
how  agonized  and  burdened  in  soul  I  was.  My  mind 
is  like  a  ox'es  for  strength,  and  very  deep. 

This  was  on  a  Friday  mornin'  that  I  had  this  mel- 
ancholy revery,  as  I  looked  out  of  the  buttery  window, 
as  I  stood  there  a  washin'  dishes  to  the  sink,  and  see 
Josiah  come  from  the  barn  a  luggin'  Bill  in.  He  had 
had  a  fit,  and  fell  acrost  the  grin '-stun  where  Josiah 
was  a  grindin',  and  Josiah  had  to  drop  everything  and 
come  a  luggin'  of  him  in.  He  broke  some  of  the  run- 
nin'-gear  of  the  grin-stun  that  time.  Josiah  had  it 
fixed  so  he  could  put  a  pail  of  water  on  top  of  it,  and 
it  would  water  itself  while  he  was  a  grindin',  but  Bill 
had  fell  right  acrost  it  and  flatted  it  all  down.  It  cost 
Josiah  upwards  of  seven  shillin's  to  make  that  loss 
good. 

Wall,  that  night  old  Banks  come.  It  was  most  bed- 
time when  he  come,  and  I  didn't  see  him  much  that 
night.  She  had  the  historicks  the  first  part  of  the 
night,  Miss  Danks  did,  but  we  knew  he  was  with  her, 
so  we  sort  o'  gin  up  the  care  to  him.  Bill  got  up  in 


178  MR.  DANKS  IN  CHARGE. 

his  sleep,  and  went  to  prowlin'  round  as  usual  in  the 
kitchen.  But  Josiah  headed  him  off  up-stairs,  and 
locked  the  chamber  door  onto  him,  and  let  his  father 
tussle  with  him.  He  had  a  fallin'  fit,  we  both  think, 
—Josiah  and  me  do,  that  he  had, — and  fell  onto  his 
father,  and  knocked  him  down.  We  don't  know  it 
for  certain,  but  we  think  so.  For  we  heard  the  awful- 
est  katouse  you  ever  did  hear.  It  sounded  as  if  the 
house  was  a  comin'  down,  and  then  we  heard  groanin* 
and  sithin'  and  low,  very  low  swcarin'. 

Of  course  we  couldn't  sleep  none  while  such  a  rum- 
pus was  a  goin'  on,  and  historicks  and  everything,  and 
he  a  tryin'  to  quell  'em  down,  but  we  lay  and  rested, 
which  was  a  good  deal  for  us.  Wall,  in  the  mornin', 
if  you'll  believe  it,  Danks  told  us  (Miss  Banks  and  the 
childern  had  gone  down  into  the  orchard  to  eat  some 
strawberries),  and  Danks  up  and  told  Josiah  and  me 
that  he  was  goin'  off  agin  that  day,  on  the  afternoon 
train.  He  did  look  bad,  I'll  say  that  for  him ;  his  suf- 
ferin's  was  great.  But  he  hadn't  ort  to  shirk  'em  off 
onto  somebody  else ;  he  hadn't  ort  to  throw  a  histor- 
icky  wife  onto  perfect  strangers,  and  bring  a  lot  of 
childern,  perfect  young  hyenas,  into  the  world,  and 
then  caper  off,  and  let  other  folks  tussle  with  'em. 

But  I  held  firm.  1  knew  a  crysis  was  approachin' 
and  drawin'  nigh,  but  1  wasn't  goin'  to  say  nothin';  I 
held  firm ;  only  I  says  in  a  mecanical  and  sort  of  won- 
dcrin'  way: 

"  Goin'  away  to-day  ?  " 


JOSIAH  HOLLERS.  179 

"  Yes,"  said  Danks,  "  it  is  a  case  of  life  and  death ; 
I  must  go." 

And  then  all  of  a  sudden  Josiah  Allen  bust  right 
out,  and  oh !  what  a  scene  of  wild  excitement  rained 
down  for  the  next  several  moments.  Josiah  riz  right 
up,  and  hollered  out  to  Danks  louder  than  I  most  ever 
hearn  him  holler, — loud  enough  to  be  hearn  for  half  a 
mile,  though  Danks  was  within  half  a  foot  of  him. 
Says  he,  in  that  loud,  scareful,  wild  tone: 

"  If  you  leave  this  house  for  half  a  minute,  without 
takin'  your  family  with  you,  I'll  prosecute  you,  and 
throw  you  into  jail,  and  take  the  law  to  you." 

It  skairt  Danks  dretfully;  it  come  so  unexpected 
onto  him,  he  fairly  jumped.  And  it  started  me  for 
a  minute,  though  my  principles  are  so  solid  and  hefty 
that  they  hold  down  my  composure  and  keep  it  stiddy 
better'n  a  iron  wedge,  makin'  my  presence  of  mind 
like  a  ox'es  for  strength. 

Says  Josiah,  in  that  awful  and  almost  deafenin'  tone 
of  hisen,  and  with  a  mean  as  wild  and  delerious  as  a 
mean  ever  looked  on  earth : 

"  I  hain't  a  wet-nurse,  and  I'll  let  you  know  I  hain't, 
and  Samantha  hain't  a  horsepittle.  Here  I  have," 
says  he,  in  a  still  more  agonizin'  tone,  "  here  I  have 
for  week  after  week  kep'  stiddy  company  with  fallin' 
fits  and  historicks.  I  have  been  broke  to  pieces  a  lug- 
gin'  boys !  and  rode  to  death  by  childern !  and  eat  up 
by  tape-worms !  And  there  has  got  to  be  a  stop  put  to 
it,  or  somebody  is  goin'  to  get  hurt." 


180  BANKS  RECOVERS  HIMSELF. 

He  was  perfectly  delerious,  and  I  says  to  him  sooth- 
in'ly: 

"Be  calm,  Josiah!" 

"  I  won't  be  calm,  Samantha ! " 

But  Banks  had  got  over  bein'  skairt,  and  begun  to 
look  cross, — crosser'n  a  bear.  And  he  spoke  out,  in  a 
pert,  hateful  tone,  old  Banks  did,  and  says  he : 

"  'Tain't  nothin'  to  me ;  I  don't  have  the  fallin'  fits 
nor  the  historicks."  He  looked  dretful  mad,  and 
spoke  up  as  pert  and  impudent  to  my  pardner  as  if  it 
was  Josiah's  business  to  tussle  with  them  fits  and 
things,  instead  of  hisen. 

I  had  thought  I  wouldn't  put  in  my  note  at  all,  but 
1  hain't  one  to  stand  by  and  see  my  pardner  imposed 
upon.  And  then,  too,  I  felt  in  the  name  of  principle 
I  ort  to  speak.  I  felt  a  feelin'  that  mebby  here  was  a 
chance  for  me  to  do  good.  And  when  he  spoke  out 
agin,  more  impudenter  and  hatefuler  than  before, 
"  that  it  wasn't  nothin'  to  him,"  says  I : 

"It  is  sunthin'  to  you."  And  then  I  went  on 
powerful  and  eloquent.  I  can  tell  you  I  talked  deep 
and  solemn  to  that  man  about  what  he  took  onto  him- 
self when  he  sot  out  in  matrimony ;  about  the  respon- 
sibility of  marriage,  and  bringin'  childern  into  the 
world ;  the  responsibility  to  God  and  man  of  usherin' 
eternal  souls  into  this  world  for  everlasting  joy  or  mis- 
ery; the  terrible  responsibility  to  these  souls  and  to 
God,  the  righteous  Judge;  and  the  terrible  responsi- 
bility to  the  world  of  lettin'  loose  in  it  such  mighty 


PUTTING  IN  A  NOTE.  181 

powers  for  good  or  evil, — a  set  of  likely  creeters,  bless- 
ings and  benefactors  forever,  or  shacks  and  sources  of 
uncounted  misery,  made  so  greatly  by  early  care  and 
culture ;  influences  that  will  go  on  and  on  for  all  tune, 
growing  and  widening  out  all  the  time,  till  no  mind 
but  the  Eternal  can  reckon  up  or  even  imagine  the 
awful  consequences  for  good  or  evil  of  one  human  soul. 
"  How  dare  anyone,"  says  I,  "  lightly  and  irreverantly 
even  think  on  the  subject, — much  less  tackle  it." 

I  talked  beautiful  on  the  subject,  and  deep,  deeper 
than  I  had  for  some  time.  I  felt  fearfully  eloquent, 
and  acted  so,  and  very  noble.  But  Danks  acted  mad, 
mad  as  a  hen.  And  he  snapped  out  agin : 

"  Who  made  any  calculations  on  fallin'  fits  and  such 
things  ?  I  didn't." 

Why,  that  man  almost  took  my  head  off,  he  snapped 
me  up  so.  But  I  didn't  care  ;  I  knew  I  was  a  talkin' 
on  principle,  and  that  reflection  is  a  high  rock  to  lean 
and  rest  the  moral  back  against.  That  thought  is  a 
thick  umberell  to  keep  off  the  little  hailstuns  of  imper- 
tinence and  impudence  that  might  otherwise  hurt  one's 
self-respect  and  mortify  it.  I  felt  well  and  noble  in 
my  mind,  and  acted  well,  very.  I  kep'  right  on  cool 
and  collected  together. 

And  says  I,  "  That  is  one  great  reason  why  any  one 
ort  to  consider  well  on't.  They  ort  to  know  that  this 
is  one  of  them  jobs  that  you  can't  calculate  on  exactly 
how  it  is  a  comin'  out.  You  must  take  the  chances. 
There  is  lots  of  undertaking  jest  so — jest  as  hard  to 


182  A  HARD  PROBLEM. 

tell  how  it  is  a  comin'  out  as  some  things  in  Nater. 
Now  the  greatest  of  minds  can't  figger  out  exactly  to 
a  minute  what  time  the  butter  will  come — or  how  a 
marriage  is  a  goin'  to  turn  out — or  jest  when  it  will 
stop  rainin',  or  begin — or  when  the  old  hen  will  lay. 

"  The  world  is  a  curious  place,  and  in  lots  of  under- 
takin's  you  have  to  step  out  blindfold  and  ketch  holt 
of  the  consequences,  good  or  bad.  The  blinders  will 
be  took  offen  our  eyes  sometime,  probable,  but  the  time 
is  not  yet.  And  marriage,  I  take  it,  is  one  of  the  very 
reskiest  undertaking  you  can  undertake.  It  may  lead 
you  into  a  happiness  as  pure  and  lofty  as  a  certain 
couple  I  could  mention  have  enjoyed  for  the  neigh- 
borhood of  20  years.  It  may,  and  then  again  it 
mayn't.  But  there  is  one  great  comfort  in  this  that 
there  hain't  in  some  things,  such  as  rain,  and  thunder 
storms,  and  etcetery.  You  needn't  enlist  in  this  war- 
fare if  you  hain't  a  mind  to — that  is  a  sweet  and  con- 
solin'  thought — if  you  feel  scareful  over  it.  But  if 
you  do  enlist  you  must  take  the  chances  of  war,  you 
must  take  the  rcsks.  And  if  it  wasn't  a  resky  piece 
of  business  to  embark  in,  why  did  them  old  fathers 
put  these  words  in  the  marriage  service,  '  for  richer, 
or  for  poorer.'  They  knew  what  they  was  about,  them 
old  fathers  did.  They  knew  they  couldn't  tell  whether 
it  would  turn  out  rich  as  rich  could  be  with  blessings 
and  bliss,  or  poor  as  poverty.  Them  old  fathers  knew 
that,  and  bein'  likely  men  and  sound-moraled,  they  fixed 


FOR  BETTER  OR  WORSE.  183 

that  halter  so  that  folks  couldn't  squirm  their  necks 
out  of  it  every  time  they  got  oneasy  and  worrysome. 

"  Historical  fits,  and  etcetery,"  says  I,  in  reasonable 
tones,  "  might  come  under  the  head  of  '  worse.'  But 
you  can't  slip  your  head  out ;  that  vow  holds  you,  for 
better  or  worse.  You  no  need  to  have  tackled  that 
vow,  but  you  did,  and  now  you  ort  to  stand  up  under 
it;  that  is  law,  and  that  is  gospel  too,  which  don't 
always  go  together." 

"Well,  what  of  it,"  says  Danks;  "what  if  itduz? 
What  are  you  goin'  to  do  about  it  ?  " 

Oh,  how  surly  and  mad  that  man  did  look.  His 
mean  would  have  skairt  some  wimmen,  but  it  didn't 
me ;  mebby  it  would  if  I  hadn't  been  talkin'  on  such 
high  principle,  but  that  boyed  me  up. 

"  Why,"  says  I,  "  as  I  have  said  more'n  40  times, 
folks  ort  to  get  it  into  their  heads  that  it  is  a  great  and 
serious  subject  that  ort  to  be  considered  and  prayed 
over  and  meditated  upon.  They  ort  to  realize  that 
gettin'  married  is  a  solemn  thing ;  solemner,  if  any- 
thing, than  it  is  not  to,  and  that  has  always  been  con- 
sidered a  very  solemn  thing,  very.  But  instead  of 
lookin'  on  it  in  this  serious  and  becomin'  way,%folks 
will  caper  and  prance  off  into  matrimony  in  jest  as 
light  and  highlarious  and  triflin'  a  way  as  if  they  was 
headin'  a  row  of  fantasticks  on  the  4th  of  July. 
They  don't  consider  and  filosifize  on  it  that  the  fan- 
tasticks can  take  off  their  uniforms  at  night,  and  be 
themselves  agin,  but  the  matrimourners  can't.  They 


184  A  SOLID  WALL. 


can't  do  it  nohow ;  there  they  be,  matrimourners.  No 
matter  how  bad  they  feel,  and  how  disappointed  they 
be  by  the  looks  of  the  state  they  have  got  into,  they 
can't  get  out  of  it.  They  are  matrimourners,  and 
can't  help  themselves. 

"The  state  of  wedlock  has  got  a  high,  slippery  wall 
round  it,  as  high  up  as  eternity,  and  as  low  down  as 
the  same.  It  is  a  wall  that  can't  be  stepped  acrost  and 
climbed  over.  It.  is  a  wall  that  a  man  or  a  woman 
can't  sneak  out  and  creep  up  on  without  fallin'  back — 
it  is  too  slippery.  It  is  a  wall  that  can't  be  broke 
down,  and  jumped  over  only  on  Bible  grounds.  And 
then  when  you  do  take  that  jump  on  Bible  grounds, 
oh  how  fatiguein'  that  leap  is.  How  much  happiness 
and  case  of  mind  the  matrimourncr  has  to  drop  in  the 
jump,  drop  forever.  And  how  much  trouble  he  has  to 
carry  witli  him,  and  disquietude  of  mind,  and  con- 
demnation, and  upbraidin's,  and  gossip,  and  evil  speak- 
ing, and  hateful  memories,  and  hauntin*  ones,  and 
travel  of  soul  and  body.  Oh,  what  a  time  that  matri- 
mourner  duz  have." 

"  I  thought,"  says  lie,  with  that  surly,  mad  look  of 
hiseir,  "  I  thought  you  was  one  that  preached  up  lib- 
erty, freedom,  and  etcetery." 

"  So  I  be,"  says  I.  "  Hain't  I  jest  been  a  doin'  of 
it  ?  Hain't  I  jest  said  that  no  man  or  woman  ort  to 
be  drove  into  the  state  of  matrimony  by  anybody  only 
jest  their  own  selves?  But  after  they  lay  holt,  and 
drive  themselves  in,  they  ortn't  to  complain.  But,  as  I 


A  CURIOUS  STATE.  185 

have  said  frequent,  they'll  find  after  they  have  drove 
themselves  in  that  it  is  the  curiousest  state  that  ever 
was  made.  None  of  our  States  of  America  will  com- 
pare with  it  for  curiosity, — and  some  of  our'n  are  ex 
ceedingly  curious,  take  'em  laws  and  all,  to  wit:  Havin' 
a  man  in  congress  to  make  laws  that  imprison  a  man 
for  havin'  two  wives,  while  he  himself,  proud  and 
hauty,  a  settin'  up  a  makin'  that  law,  has  four  on 
'em.  Exceedingly  curious  that  is,  and  to  wit :  Fixin' 
penalties  against  crime  and  vice,  and  then  sellin' 
licenses  to  encourage  and  make  it  respectable.  Oh ! 
how  curious,  how  curious  some  of  our  states  be  !  But 
the  state  of  matrimony  is  far  curiouser.  It  is  curi- 
ouser  in  the  beginning — some  like  a  conundrum. 
States  have  to  be  admitted  into  the  Union ;  a  union 
admits  you  into  that  state.  And  then,  it  is  bounded 
on  every  side  by  divinest  possibilities  of  happiness,  or 
the  most  despairin'  ones,  and  no  knowin'  which  will 
break  over  the  frontier,  and  capture  you.  Sweetest 
and  most  rapturous  joys  may  cover  its  soil  as  thick  as 
blossoms  on  a  summer  prairie,  or  angry  passions  and 
disappointments  and  cares  may  crunch  'em  down 
under  foot,  and  set  fire  to  'em.  Peace  and  trust  and 
tenderness  may  rain  over  that  state,  or  anarky  and 
sizm." 

"Yes,  and  fallin'  fits,"  says  Danks,  with  a  bitter 
tone,  "  and  historicks.'" 

"  Yes,"  says  I  calmly,  "  matrimourners  ort  to  take 
all  the  blessings  and  enjoyments  and  comforts  with  a 


186  DIDN'T  FIGURE  CLOSE  ENOUGH. 

thankful  heart,  and  they  ort  to  have  the  courage  and 
the  nobility  and  the  common  sense  to  take  all  the 
evils,  fallin'  fits,  historicks,  and  etcetery,  and  etcetery, 
with  a  willin'  mind.  You  ort,"  says  I  firmly,  "  you 
ort  to  have  figured  it  all  out.  You  ort  to  have  figured 
out  the  hull  sum,  orts  and  all,  and  seen  what  was  to 
carry,  and  got  the  right  answer  to  it,  before  you  drove 
yourself  into  that  state." 

"How  could  I  see  to  carry  historicks?  how  could 
I  figured  'em  out  ? "  says  he  bitterly. 

But  I  kep'  right  on :  "  You  ort  to  have  studied  it 
out,  whether  you  was  strong  enough  to  stand  the  cli- 
mate, with  its  torrid  weather  and  its  frigid  zones,  its 
sweet  summery  winds  and  its  blasts,  its  squalls  and 
hurrycains.  But  as  I  have  said  40  times,  if  I  have 
once,  after  you  have  drove  yourself  into  that  state,  you 
ort  to  hist  up  your  moral  umberell,  and  make  the  best 
on't." 

Danks  didn't  look  convinced  at  all.  He  muttered 
sunthin'  agin  about  fits  and  other  things,  and  how 
he  hadn't  made  no  calculations  on  'em;  and  I  felt 
fairly  out  of  patience,  and  went  to  allegorin',  as  I 
might  have  known  I  should  before  I  got  through.  (It 
is  next  to  impossible  for  me  to  be  so  eloquent  as  I  was 
then  without  allegorin'  some) . 

"  Why,"  says  I,  "  when  a  man  buys  a  farm,  he  must 
be  a  natural  fool,  or  else  a  luny,  if  he  expects  and  cal- 
culates the  sun  to  shine  on  it  every  day  the  year  round. 
He  must  make  calculations  for  rain  and  snow,  sun 


MISS  JOB  AND  I  DIFFER.  187 

shine  and  thunder.  He  can't  expect  it  all  to  be  ripe 
wheat  and  apple-sass.  He  buys  it  with  his  eyes  open; 
buys  it  with  all  its  possibilities  of  good  or  evil ;  and 
don't  expect,  if  he  hain't  a  fool,  to  shirk  out  of  car- 
ryin' of  'em." 

"Who  has  shirked  out  of  carryin'  of  'em?"  says 
Banks.  "  I  hain't." 

"You  have!"  says  Josiah,  a  jumpin'  up  and  hol- 
lerin'  at  him  agin  ;  and  his  face  was  red  as  a  fire-bran'. 

"I  hain't!"  says  Danks. 

"  You  have !  "  says  Josiah.  "And  don't  you  dispute 
me  agin  if  you  know  what  is  good  for  yourself.  You 
have  shirked  out  of  carryin'  that  dumb  boy  of  your'n, 
in  his  dumb  fits.  And  I  let  you  know  that  I  have 
broke  my  back  for  the  last  time  a  luggin'  him  round, 
or  somebody  or  sun  thin'  is  goin'  to  get  hurt,  and  I  can 
tell  you  so — dummit !  " 

1  felt  as  if  I  should  sink.  My  Josiah  was  almost 
doin'  what  Miss  Job  advised  Mr.  Job  to  do  when  he 
was  smote  with  agony  and  biles.  He  was  almost  a 
swearin'.  But  here  was  where  1  and  the  late  Miss 
Job  differ.  I  knew  my  pardner's  sufferin's  was  intense, 
and  them  sufferin's  was  terrible  to  me.  But  still  I 
says  in  a  reprovin',  but  tender  and  pityin'  tone : 

"  Be  calm,  Josiah !  " 

"1  won't  be  calm  !  "  says  he. 

Says  I:  "Josiah,  you  must;  you  are  almost  deler- 
ious."  Says  I:  "You  are  a  swearin',  Josiah!  be 
calm!" 


188  ON  THE  WRONG  SIDE. 

"  Wall,  I  tell  you  agin  that  I  won't  be  calm ;  and  I 
tell  you  agin,  dummit!  there  now!  dummit!" 

Oh  !  how  my  pardner  did  look,  how  his  axent  did 
sound,  as  he  uttered  them  fearful  and  profane  words. 
And  then  before  I  could  put  in  a  soothin'  word  to 
soothe  him,  Danks  spoke  right  out,  and  says  he : 

"  You  promised  to  take  'em  for  all  summer,  and  if 
you  don't  I  won't  pay  you  a  cent  for  their  board,  and 
you  can't  make  me." 

Here  Josiah  turned  as  white  as  a  white  milk-pail, 
and  groaned  to  that  extent  that  I  thought  he  was  a 
goin'  to  faint  away. 

And  as  it  turned  out,  the  law  was  on  Danks'es  side. 
Josiah  made  'em  all  go  that  very  day,  but  he  couldn't 
get  a  cent  from  'em.  He  hired  a  lawyer  to  prosicute 
Danks,  but  Danks,  bein'  sharp-witted  and  ugly  (and 
sometimes  I  think  that  such  trials  as  he  underwent,  if 
anybody  don't  take  'em  as  a  means  of  grace,  makes 
anybody  ugly.  I  can't  help  feelin'  sorry  for  Danks, 
after  all).  But  as  I  was  a  sayin',  Danks  worked  it  in 
such  a  way  that  Josiah  lost  the  case,  and  had  to  pay 
the  costs  on  both  sides.  They  was  heavy  bills, — most 
as  heavy  as  Bill  Danks, — and  take  it  with  what  we 
lost  boardin'  of  'em,  and  what  the  childern  tore  to 
pieces,  and  Bill  smashed  and  squshed  down,  a  fallin' 
on  'em, — take  it  all  together,  it  is  a  loss  that  makes 
Josiah  Allen  groan  now  every  time  he  thinks  on  it. 
We  don't  either  of  us  think  his  back  will  erer  feel  as 
it  did  before.  He  strained  it  beyond  its  strength. 


A  VISIT  FROM  MISS  RICKERSON. 

IT  was  about  a  week  after  the  Danks'es  departure 
and  exodus.  It  was  a  cool  day  for  the  time  of  the 
year,  and  very  windy.  And  I  was  settin'  calm  and 
peaceful,  hullin'  some  strawberries  for  dinner.  For 
my  companion,  Josiah  Allen,  had  gone  to  Jones ville, 
and  I  wanted  to  have  dinner  ready  by  the  time  of  his 
arrival.  But  I  had  only  jest  got  my  potatoes  pared 
and  over  the  stove,  when  I  heard  the  old  mare  and 
him  drive  into  the  barn-yard.  He  had  come  sooner 
than  I  looked  for.  But  it  didn't  excite  me ;  I  was  pre- 
pared. For  not  knowin'  exactly  the  time  of  his  arrival, 
I  had  made  ready  for  any  emergency.  I  had  drawed 
the  table  out,  and  put  the  table-cloth  on ;  and  I  felt  at 
rest,  and  peaceful. 

Let  wimmen  whose  pardners  are  wont  to  rampage 
round  and  act,  when  they  come  in  and  find  dinner 
only  jest  begun — let  'em  not  tell  any  wrong  stories  or 
exagerations  or  parables,  let  'em  not  bandy  words  or 
argue,  but  let  'em,  jest  before  he  comes  in,  draw  out 

(189) 


190  A  TRICK  WORTH  KNOWING. 

the  table  and  throw  the  table-cloth  on,  and  everything 
will  move  on  peaceful ;  their  pardners  will  think  dinner 
is  most  ready,  and  as  they  glance  at  that  snowy  table- 
cloth their  wrath  will  leave  'em,  and  they  will  demean 
themselves  like  lambs. 

I  only  tell  what  I  have  learnt  from  experience.  And 
any  little  crumbs-  of  wisdom  and  knowledge  that  I  have 
gained  by  hard  experience,  and  through  tribulation,  I 
am  willin'  to  share  freely,  without  money  and  without 
price,  with  the  female  sect;  1  think  so  much  of  'em, 
and  wish  'em  so  well.  Now  jest  this  one  little  receipt, 
— this  table-cloth  performance, — would  have  been 
worth  dollars  and  dollars  to  me  if  1  had  known  it 
when  I  was  first  a  pardner.  But  I  never  found  it  out 
till  I  had  been  married  over  thirteen  years,  and  had 
been  jawed  accordingly,  when  I  was  belated  and  dinner 
wasn't  ready.  Why  no  woman  would  have  any  idee 
of  its  value  till  they  try  it.  Men  are  as  likely  crceters 
as  the  earth  affords,  if  you  only  know  how  to  get 
along  with  'em.  And  wimmen  has  to  try  various 
ways  and  measures.  I  learnt  this  jest  by  tryin'  it  as  a 
experiment.  I  have  tried  a  good  many  experiments — 
little  harmless  ones  like  this.  Some  of  'em  work,  and 
some  don't. 

Wall,  I  sot  there  hullin'  my  berries,  and  listenin'  to 
the  wind,  which  was  a  roarin'  round  the  house.  Seems 
as  if  I  never  heard  it  blow  no  harder.  It  blowcd  for 
all  the  world  as  if  it  had  been  kep'  in  through  sickness 


HOW  IT  WORKED.  191 

in  its  family,  or  sunthin',  and  was  out  now  for  the 
first  time,  on  a  regular  spree. 

And  though  it  didn't  come  right  out  and  sing  'em 
in  plain  words,  yet  it  seemed  to  be  a  roarin'  it  down 
the  chimbley,  and  blowin'  it  through  the  orchard  and 
round  the  corners  of  the  house,  and  whistlin'  it 
through  the  open  buttery  window— the  song  that  other 
elevated  and  gay  spirits  indulge  in,  about  bein1  fairly 
determined  and  sot  to  not  go  home  till  mornin'. 

It  blowed  fearfully.  But  I  was  calm  and  peaceful, 
knowin'  the  table-cloth  was  on,  and  Josiah  would  act 
first-rate.  And  then,  when  a  tempest  is  a  howlin'  and 
a  actin'  out-doors,  it  seems  as  if  I  enjoy  more  than 
ever  the  safety  and  sweet  repose  and  happiness  of  my 
own  hearth-stun  (which  last  is  a  poetical  simely,  our 
hearth  not  bein'  stun  at  all,  but  iron,  with  a  nickel 
platin'  round  it). 

Wall,  there  I  sot,  feelin'  well  and  lookin'  well.  I 
had  combed  my  hair  slick,  and  put  on  a  clean  gingham 
dress, — when  Josiah  Allen  opened  the  door  and 
walked  in.  He  glanced  at  the  table-cloth,  and  a  calm, 
contented  look  settled  upon  his  eye-brow,  but  he  left 
the  door  open  behind  him  as  composed  as  if  he  had 
been  born  in  a  saw-mill ;  and  says  I ; 

"  Josiah  Allen,  if  there  was  a  heavy  fine  to  pay  for 
shettin'  up  doors,  you  wouldn't  never  loose  a  cent  of 
your  property  in  that  way."  And  says  I,  clutchin' 
my  pan  of  strawberries  with  a  firmer  grip,  for  truly  it 
was  a  movin'  and  onstiddy,  and  my  apron  was  a  flut- 


192 


WELL  BALLASTED. 


term'  like  a  banner  in  the  cold  breeze:  "If  you  don't 
want  me*  to  blow  away,  Josiah  Allen,  shet  up  that 
door." 

"Oh  shaw!  Samantha.  You  won't  blow  away; 
you  are  too  hefty.  It  would  take  a  hurrycane  and  a 
simon,  too,  to  tackle  you,  and  lift  you." 


SHUT  THAT  DOOR, 

"  Simon  who  ? "  says  I,  in  cold  axents,  caused 
partly  by  my  frigid  emotions  and  the  cool  blast,  and 
partly  by  his  darin'  to  say  any  man  could  take  me  up 
and  carry  me  away. 

"  Oh !   the  simons  they  have  on  the  desert.     Wo 


HE  TOOK  HIS  TIME.  193 

hearn  Thomas  J.  read  about  'em.  They'll  blow  cam- 
els away,  and  everything." 

Says  I  dreamily :  "  Who'd  have  thought  twenty 
years  ago,  to  have  heard  that  man  a  courtin'  me,  and 
callin'  me  a  zephire  and  a  pink  posy  and  a  angel,  that 
he'd  ever  live  to  see  the  day  he'd  call  me  a  camel." 

"  I  hain't  called  you  a  camel.  I  only  meant  you 
was  hefty,  and  camels  was  hefty,  and  it  would  take  a 
simon  or  two  to  lift  you  round,  either  on  you." 

"Wall,"  says  I,  in  frigid  tones,  "what  I  want  to 
know  is,  are  you  a  goin'  to  shet  that  door  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  be,  jest  as  quick  as  I  change  my  clothes.  I 
don't  want  to  fodder  in  these  new  briches." 

I  rose  with  dignity, — or  as  much  dignity  as  I  could 
lay  holt  of,  half  bent,  tryin'  to  keep  five  or  six  quarts 
of  strawberries  from  spillin'  all  over  the  floor, — and 
went  and  shet  the  door  myself,  which  I  might  have 
known  enough  to  done  in  the  first  place,  and  saved 
time  and  breath.  For  shettin'  up  doors  is  a  accom- 
plishment that  Josiah  Allen  never  will  master.  I 
have  tutored  him  up  on  lots  of  things  since  we  was 
married,  but  in  this  branch  of  education  he  has  been 
too  much  for  me.  Experiments  have  been  vain;  I 
have  about  gin  up. 

In  the  course  of  ten  or  fifteen  minutes,  Josiah  come 
out  of  the  bedroom  lookin'  as  pleasant  and  peace- 
ful as  you  please,  with  his  hands  in  his  pantaloons 
pockets,  seemin'ly  searchin'  their  remotest  depths,  and 
says  he  in  a  off-hand,  careless  way : 


194  JUST  AS  ALL  MEN  DO. 

"I'll  be  hanged  if  there  hain't  a  letter  for  you, 
Samantha." 

"  How  many  weeks  have  you  carried  it  'round, 
Josiah  Allen?"  says  I.  "It  would  scare  me  if  you 
should  give  me  a  letter  before  you  had  carried  it  round 
in  your  pockets  a  month  or  so." 

"  Oh  !  I  guess  I  only  got  this  two  or  three  days  ago. 
I  meant  to  handed  it  to  you  the  first  thing  when  I  got 
home.  But  I  hain't  had  on  these  old  breeches  sence 
that  day  I  went  to  mill." 

"Three  weeks  ago  to-day,"  says  I,  in  almost  frosty 
axents,  as  I  opened  my  letter. 

"  Wall,"  says  Josiah  cheerfully,  as  he  hunted  round 
in  the  bedroom  for  his  old  hat,  "  I  knew  it  wuzn't 
long,  anyway." 

I  glanced  my  gray  eye  down  the  letter,  and  says  I 
in  agitated  tones : 

"  Come  out  here,  Josiah  Allen,  and  let  me  look  at 
you,  and  wither  you !  She  that  was  Alzina  Ann  Allen 
is  comin'  here  a  visatin'.  She  wrote  me  three  weeks 
ahead,  so's  to  have  me  prepared.  And  here  she  is 
liable  to  come  in  on  us  any  minute,  now,  and  find  us 
all  unprepared."  Says  I,  "  I  wouldn't  have  had  it  hap- 
pen for  a  ten-cent  bill  to  had  one  of  the  relation  on 
your  side  come  and  ketch  me  in  such  a  condition. 
There  the  curtains  are  all  down  in  the  spare  room. 
Bill  Banks  fell  and  dragged  'em  down  onto  the  floor 
under  him,  and  mussed  'em  all  up,  and  I  washed  'era 
yesterday,  and  they  hain't  ironed.  And  the  carpet  in 


A  PROVOKING  ANNOUNCEMENT.      196 

the  Gettin'-room  up  to  mend,  where  he  fell  onto  it  with 
a  lighted  candle  in  his  hand  and  sot  it  afire.  And 
not  a  mite  of  fruit-cake  in  the  house,  and  she  a  comin' 
here  to-day.  I  am  mortified  most  to  death,  Josiah 
Allen.  And  if  you  had  give  me  that  letter,  I  should 
have  hired  help  and  got  everything  done.  -  I  should 
think  your  conscience  would  smart  like  a  burn,  if  you 
have  got  a  conscience,  Josiah  Allen." 

"  Wall,  less  have  a  little  sunthin'  to  eat,  Samantha, 
and  I'll  help  round." 

"  Help !     What'll  you  do,  Josiah  Allen  ? ' ' 

"  Oh !  I'll  do  the  barn  chores,  and  help  all  I  can.  I 
guess  you'd  better  cook  a  little  of  that  canned  sammen 
I  got  to  Jonesville." 

Says  I  coldly,  "  I  believe,  Josiah  Allen,  if  you  was 
on  your  way  to  the  gallus,  you'd  make  'em  stop  and 
get  vittles  for  you — meat  vittles,  if  you  could." 

I  didn't  say  nothin'  more,  for,  as  the  greatest  poets 
have  sung,  "the  least  said,  the  soonest  mended."  But 
I  rose,  and  with  outward  calmness  opened  the  can  of 
salmon,  and  jest  as  I  put  that  over  the  stove,  with 
some  sweet  cream  and  butter,  if  you'll  believe  it,  that 
very  minute  she  that  was  Alzina  Ann  Allen  drove 
right  up  to  the  door,  and  come  in.  You  could  have 
knocked  me  down  with  a  hen's  feather  (as  it  were), 
my  feelin's  was  such ;  but  I  concealed  'em  as  well  as 
I  could,  and  advanced  to  the  door,  and  says  I: 

"  How  do  you  do,  Miss  Rickerson  ?  "  She  is  married 
to  Bildad  Rickerson,  old  Dan  Rickerson's  oldest  boy. 


196 


ALZINA'S  GREETING. 


She  is  a  tall,  bony  woman,  light-complected,  sandy- 
haired,  and  with  big,  light-blue  eyes.     I  hadn't  seen 


ARRIVAL  OP  MISS  RICKERSON. 

her  for  nineteen  years,  but  she  seemed  dretful  tickled 
to  see  me,  and  says  she : 

"  You  look  younger,  Samantha,  than  you  did  the  first 
time  I  ever  seen  you." 

"Oh,  no!"  says  I,  "that  can't  be,  Alzina  Ann,  for 
that  is  in  the  neighberhood  of  thirty  years  ago." 

Says  she,  "It  is  true  as  I  live  and  breathe,  you  look 
younger  and  handsomer  than  I  ever  see  you  look." 


EASILY  SUITED.  197 


I  didn't  believe  it,  but  I  thought  it  wouldn't  look 
well  to  dispute  her  any  more  ;  so  I  let  it  go ;  and  mebby 
she  thought  she  had  convinced  me  that  I  did  look 
younger  than  I  did  when  I  was  eighteen  or  twenty. 
But  1  only  said  "  That  I  didn't  feel  so  young  any  way. 
I  had  spells  of  feelin'  mauger." 

She  took  off  her  things,  or  "wrappers,"  as  Tirzah 
Ann  says  it  is  more  genteel  to  call  'em.  She  was 
dressed  up  awful  slick,  and  Josiah  helped  the  driver 
bring  in  her  trunk.  And  I  told  her  jest  how  mortified 
I  wuz  about  Josiah's  forgcttin'  her  letter,  and  her 
ketchin'  me  unprepared.  But  good  land !  she  told  me 
that  "  she  never  in  her  hull  life  see  a  house  in  such 
beautiful  order  as  mine  was,  and  she  had  seen  thous- 
ands and  thousands  of  different  houses." 

Says  I, "  I  feel  worked  up  and  almost  mortified  about 
my  settin'-room  carpet  bein'  up." 

But  she  held  up  both  hands — they  was  white  as 
snow,  and  all  covered  with  rings — and  says  she,  "-If 
there  is  one  thing  that  I  love  to  see  more  than  another 
it  is  to  see  a  settin'-room  carpet  up,  it  gives  such  a 
sort  of  a  free,  noble  look  to  a  room." 

Says  I,  "  The  curtains  are  down  in  the  spare  bed- 
room, and  I  am  almost  entirely  out  of  cookin'." 

Says  she,  "  If  I  had  my  way,  I  never  would  have  a 
curtain  up,  to  a  window.  The  sky  always  looks  so 
pure  and  innocent  somehow.  It  is  so  beautiful  to  set 
and  look  up  into  the  calm  heavens,  with  no  worldly 
obstructions  between,  such  as  curtains.  It  is  so  sweet 


198  HEFTY  WORDS. 


to  sit  in  your  chair,  and  knit  tattin',  and  commune 
with  holy  nature.  And  cookin',"  says  she,  with  a  look 
of  complete  disgust  on  her  face,  "why  I  fairly  despise 
cookin'.  What's  the  use  of  it?"  says  she,  with  a 
sweet  smile. 

"Why,"  says  I,  reasonably,  "if  it  wasn't  for  cookin' 
vittles  and  eatin'  em,  I  guess  we  shouldn't  stand  it  a 
great  while,  none  of  us." 

I  didn't  really  like  the  way  she  went  on.  Never, 
never,  through  my  hull  life,  was  I  praised  up  by  any- 
body as  I  was  by  her  durin'  the  three  days  that  she 
stayed  with  us.  She  praised  everything  fur  beyond 
what  they  would  bear. 

I  believe  in  praisin'  things  that  will  stand  praisin'. 
Nothin'  does  any  one  more  good  than  appreciation. 
Honest  admiration,  sympathy,  and  good-will  put  into 
words  are  more  inspirin'  and  stimulatin'  than  tongue 
can  tell.  They  are  truly  ref  reshin'.  I  think  as  a  rule 
we  New  Englanders  are  too  cold  in  our  means.  Mebby 
it  is  settin'  on  Plymouth  Rock  so  much,  or  leanin'  up 
against  Bunker  Hill  Monument ;  or  mebby  we  took  it 
from  our  old  Puritcn  four-fathers,  and  mebby  them 
four  old  men  ketched  cold  in  their  demeaniers  from 
settin'  under  the  chilly  blue  light  of  their  old  laws,  or 
took  the  trait  from  the  savages.  Any  way,  we  are  too 
undemonstrative  and  reticent  (them  are  very  hefty 
words,  and  it  is  seldom  indeed  that  I  harness  up  a 
span  of  such  a  size  to  carry  my  idees. 
As  a  general  thing  I  don't  have  idees  so  hefty  but 


TRUE  PRAISE  A  BLESSING.  199 

what  I  can  draw  'em  along  with  considerable  small 
words.  And  I  prefer  'em  always,  as  bein'  easier 
reined  in,  and  held  up,  and  governed.  Why,  I  have 
seen  such  awful  big  words  harnessed  in  front  of  such 
weak  little  idees  that  they  run  away  with  'em,  kicked 
in  the  harness,  got  all  tangled  up,  and  made  a  perfect 
wrack  and  ruin  of  the  little  idee.  Hence,  I  am  cau- 
tious, and  if  I  owned  droves  of  'em,  I  should  be  on  the 
safe  side,  and  handle  'em  careful  and  not  drive  'em 
hardly  any.  But  these  two  I  have  heard  Thomas  J. 
use  in  jest  this  place,  and  hain't  a  doubt  but  they 
are  safe  and  stiddy  as  any  ever  was  of  their  size.) 
Thomas  J.  said,  and  I  believe,  that  we  are  too  bash- 
ful, or  shy,  or  sunthin',  too  afraid  of  expressin'  our 
hearty  appreciation,  the  honest,  friendly  admiration 
and  regard  we  entertain  for  our  friends.  But  if  my 
friends  like  me,  or  my  work,  I  want  'em  to  tell  me  of  it, 
to  give  me  the  help,  and  encouragement,  and  insperation 
this  knowledge  will  bring.  A  few  sympathetic,  cheerin' 
words  and  a  warm  smile  and  hand-clasp  will  do  more 
good  than  to  wait  and  cut  the  praise  on  marble,  when 
the  heart  they  would  have  cheered  and  lightened  is 
beyond  the  touch  of  joy  or  pain.  I  think  it  is  not  only 
silly,  but  unchristian,  to  be  so  afraid  of  tellin'  our 
friends  frankly  how  pleasant  and  admirable  we  think 
them,  if  we  do  think  so.  But  let  us  not  lie.  Let  us 
not  praise  what  won't  stand  praisin'.  Now  when 
Alzina  Ann  Rickerson  told  me  that  I  was  as  pretty  as 
any  wax  doll  she  ever  see  in  her  life — and  if  my  intel- 


200  OVERDOING  IT. 


lect  and  Shakespeare's  intellect  was  laid  side  by  side, 
Shakespeare's  would  look  weak  and  shiftless  compared 
with  mine — and  when  she  said  that  my  old  winter 
bunnet  that  I  had  wore  on  and  off  for  thirteen  years 
was  the  most  genteel  and  fashionable,  and  the  loveliest 
piece  of  millionary  she  ever  sot  her  eyes  on,  she  was 
goin'  too  fur.  Why,  that  old  bunnet  wouldn't  hardly 
hold  together  to  stand  her  praisin'.  And  she  praised 
up  everything.  She  nattered  Kellup  Cobb  so,  when 
he  happened  to  come  in  there  one  mornin',  that  it 
skairt  him  most  to  death. 

He  had  been  up  by  on  his  father's  business,  and  as 
he  come  along  back  he  stopped  the  hearse  and  come 
in  to  see  when  Kitty  was  a  comin'  back,  and  to  see  if 
he  could  borrow  Josiah's  stun-bolt  that  afternoon  to 
draw  some  stuns.  He  was  goin'  to  wait  till  Josiah 
come  back  from  the  factory  to  see  about  it,  but  Alzina 
Ann  praised  him  up  so,  and  looked  so  admiringly  at 
him,  that  he  dassent.  As  a  general  thing  I  think 
Kellup  is  afraider  than  he  need  to  be  of  doin'  hurt  and 
gettin'  wimmen  in  love  with  him,  but  now  I'll  be 
hanged  if  I  blame  him  for  thinkin'  he  was  doin'  dam- 
age. Why,  she  praised  him  up  to  the  very  skies. 

She  pretended  to  think  that  his  hair  and  whiskers 
and  eyebrows  was  the  natural  color.  They  was  a  sort 
of  a  greenish  color  that  mornin' — he  had  been  a  tam- 
perin'  with  'em  agin,  and  tryin'  experements.  He  had 
been  a  usin'  smartweed  and  sage,  as  I  found  out  after- 
wards, and  they  bein'  yellow  before,  the  two  colors 


PLYING  HER  PROFESSION.  201 

together  made  'em  a  sort  of  a  dark  bottle-green — made 
him  look  as  curious  as  a  dog,  and  curiouser  than  any 
dog  I  ever  laid  eyes  on. 

But  oh,  how  Alzina  Ann  did  praise  'em  up.  You'd 
have  thought,  to  heard  her  go  on,  that  she  had  all  her 
hull  life  been  longin'  to  ketch  a  glimpse  of  jest  such 
colored  hair  and  whiskers.  She  said  they  looked  so 
strikin',  and  she  never  had  seen  anything  like  'em 
in  her  life  before,  which  last  I  don't  doubt  at  all. 
And  then  she  would  glance  out  at  the  hearse,  and  tell 
him  he  looked  so  noble  and  impressive  on  it,  it  give 
him  such  a  lofty,  majestic  look,  so  becomin'  to  his 
style.  And  then  she  would  branch  off  again  and 
praise  up  his  looks. 

Why,  I  don't  wonder  a  mite  that  Kellup  thought  he 
was  ensnarin'  her  affections  and  doin'  harm. 

He  follered  me  out  onto  the  back  stoop,  where  I  was 
feedin'  a  chicken  that  the  old  hen  had  forsook,  and  I 
was  bringin'  up  as  a  corset.  He  follered  me  out  there, 
and  whispered,  with  a  anxious  look,  that  he  was  goin' 
to  start  for  home  that  minute,  that  he  dassent  wait 
another  minute  to  see  Josiah  about  the  stun-bolt;  and, 
says  he,  with  a  awful  anxious  look : 

"  I  am  afraid  I  have  done  hurt  as  it  is,  but  Heaven 
knows  I  didn't  mean  to." 

I  threw  the  corset  another  handful  of  dough,  and 
told  him,  in  a  encouragin'  tone,  that  "I  guessed  he 
hadn't  done  much  harm." 

"  Why,"  says  he,  "  don't  you  s'pose  I  could  see  for 


WHAT  SHE  WAS  DOIN'. 


myself  what  I  was  a  doin'  ?  She  was  a  gettin'  head 
over  heels  in  love  with  ine.  And,"  says  he,  frownin' 
and  knittin'  up  his  eyebrows : 

"What  good  will  it  do  to  have  another  married 
woman  a  droopin'  round  after  me  ? " 


KELLUP  S  CONUNDRUM. 


Says  I,  mechanically,  as  I  put  some  fresh  Water  on 
the  corset's  dish : 

"  I  thought  you  wanted  to  see  Josiah  about  the  stun- 
bolt,  you  said  you  needed  it." 

"  Yes,  I  need  the  stun-bolt,  but  I  need  a  easy  con- 
science more.  I  had  ruther  lug  the  stuns  in  my  arms, 
and  crack  my  back,  and  bruise  my  stomach,  than  crack 


A  LOVELY  CREETER.  203 

the  commandments  and  strain  my  principles.  I  see 
from  her  actions  that  I  have  got  to  leave  at  once,  or  no 
knowin'  what  the  consequences  will  be  to  her.  I  am 
afraid  she  will  suffer  now,  suffer  intensely.  But  what 
can  a  man  do?"  says  he,  frownin'  heavily.  "They 
have  got  to  go  around  some,  and  do  errants.  And  if 
wimmen  lay  traps  for  'em  on  every  side,  and  make  fools 
of  themselves,  what  is  a  man  to  do  ?  But  I  don't  want 
to  do  harm,  Heaven  knows  I  don't." 

And  he  started  for  the  gate  almost  on  the  run.  And 
I  was  jest  a  goin'  in  when  Alzina  Ann  come  out  to  the 
back  door  herself,  and  happenin'  to  see  the  corset,  she 
said  "  she  should  rather  have  it  for  a  pet,  and  it  was 
far  handsomer  and  more  valuable  than  any  mockin'- 
bird,  or  canary,  or  parrot  she  ever  laid  eyes  on."  And 
so  she  kep'  on  in  jest  that  way.  And  one  mornin' 
when  she  had  been  goin'  on  dretfully  that  way,  I  took 
Josiah  out  one  side  and  told  him  "  I  couldn't  bear  to 
hear  her  go  on  so,  and  I  believed  there  was  sunthin' 
wrong  about  it." 

"  Oh,  no,"  says  he,  "  she  means  every  word  she  says. 
She  is  one  of  the  loveliest  creeters  on  earth.  She  is 
most  a  angel.  Oh!"  says  he,  dreamily,  "What  a 
sound  mind  she  has  got.  How  fur  she  can  see  into 
things." 

Says  I,  "  I  heard  her  a  tellin'  you  this  mornin'  that 
you  was  one  of  the  handsomest  men  she  ever  laid  eyes 
on,  and  didn't  look  a  day  over  twenty-one." 

"Wall,"  says  he,  with  the  doggy  firmness  of  his  sect, 

8* 


204  A  SOFT  SPOT. 


"she  thinks  so;  she  says  jest  exactly  what  she  thinks." 
And  says  he,  in  firm  axents,  "  I  am  a  good-lookin'  fel- 
ler, Samantha — a  crackin'  good-lookin'  chap;  but  I 
never  could  make  you  own  up  to  it." 

1  didn't  say  nothin',  but  my  gray  eye  wandered  up, 
and  lighted  on  his  bald  head.  It  rested  there  search- 
in'ly  and  very  coldly  for  a  moment  or  two,  and  then 
says  I  sternly,  "  Bald  heads  and  beauty  don't  go 
together  worth  a  cent.  But  you  was  always  vain, 
Josiah  Allen." 

Says  he,  "What  if  I  wuz?"  And  says  he,  "She 
thinks  different  from  what  you  do  about  my  looks. 
She  has  got  a  keen  eye  in  her  head  for  beauty.  She 
is  very  smart,  very.  And  what  she  says,  she  means." 

"  Wall,"  says  I,  "  I  am  glad  you  are  so  happy  in 
your  mind.  But  mark  my  words,  you  won't  always 
feel  so  neat  about  it,  Josiah  Allen,  as  you  do  now." 

Says  he  in  a  cross,  surly  way,  "I  guess  I  know  what 
I  do  know." 

I  hain't  a  jealous  hair  in  the  hull  of  my  foretop  or 
back  hair,  but  I  thought  to  myself,  I'd  love  to  see 
Josiah  Allen's  eyes  opened ;  for  I  knew  as  well  as  I 
knew  my  name  was  Josiah  Allen's  wife,  that  that 
woman  didn't  think  Josiah  was  so  pretty  and  beauti- 
ful. But  I  didn't  see  how  I  was  goin'  to  convince  him, 
for  he  wouldn't  believe  me  when  I  told  him  she  was 
a  makin'  of  it ;  and  I  knew  she  would  stick  to  what 
she  had  said,  and  so  there  it  was.  But  I  held  firm, 
and  cooked  good  vittles,  and  done  well  by  her. 


CASSANDRA'S  TEA  PARTY. 

THAT  very  afternoon  we  was  all  invited  to  take 
tea  with  she  that  was  Cassandra  Allen,  Miss 
Nathan  Spooner,  that  now  is.  And  we  all  went, 
Alzina  Ann,  Josiah,  and  me. 

Cassandra  didn't  use  to  be  likely.  She  had  a  mis- 
fortune when  she  was  a  girl.  It  is  six  years  old  now. 
But  all  of  a  sudden  she  took  a  turn,  and  went  to 
behavin'.  She  learnt  the  dress-maker's  trade,  experi- 
enced religion,  and  jined  the  Methodist  Church.  And 
folks  begun  to  make  of  her.  I  didn't  use  to  associate 
with  her  at  all,  Josiah  didn't  want  me  to,  though  she 
is  his  2nd  cousin  on  his  father's  side.  But  jist  as 
quick  as  she  went  to  behavin',  we  went  to  makin'  of 
her.  And  the  more  she  behaved,  the  more  we  made  ; 
till  we  make  as  much  of  her  now  as  we  do  of  any  of 
the  relation  on  my  side,  or  ori  hisen.  And  last  fall 
she  was  married  to  Nathan  Spooner.  She  got  ac- 
quainted with  him  about  two  years  ago. 

Nathan  is  a  likely  feller,  all  that  ails  him  is  he  is 

(205) 


206 


A  LIKELY  FELLER. 


bashful,  too  bashful  for  any  sort  of  comfort.  But 
Cassandra  is  proud-spirited,  and  holds  him  up,  and  1 
tell  Cassandra  "  I  dare  say  he'll  get  over  it  by  the  time 


NATHAN    SPOONER. 


he  gets  to  be  a  old  man.  I  tell  her  "  I  shouldn't 
wonder  at  all  if  by  the  time  he  got  to  be  seventy  or 
eighty,  he  would  talk  up  quite  well."  I  try  to  make 
her  feel  well,  and  encourage  her  all  I  can. 


A  MORTIFYIN'  MOMENT. 


207 


But  bem'  proud-spirited,  it  works  her  up  awfully  to 
have  Nathan  get  over  the  fence,  rather  than  meet  a 
strange  woman,  and  walk  in  the  lot  till  he  gets  by  her. 
And  it  mortified  her  dretfully,  I  s'pose,  when  she  intro- 
duced him  to  our  new  minister  and  his  wife,  to  have 
him  instead  of  bo  win'  to  'em,  and  speakin',  turn  his 
back  to  'em,  and  snicker. 


NATHAN   SNICKERS. 


But  he  couldn't  help  it,  I  told  her  he  couldn't.  I 
was  present  at  the  time,  and  1  could  see,  his  mouth 
bein'  a  little  open,  that  his  tongue  was  dry,  and 
parched,  and  his  eyes  wild  and  sot  in  his  head. 


208  A  BAD  FIX. 


He  has  the  worst  of  it,  as  I  told  Cassandra — it  don't 
hurt  nobody  else  so  bad  as  it  does  him.  But  I  s'pose 
it  has  been  almost  the  means  of  his  death,  time  and 
agin — through  his  not  dastin'  to  call  for  anything  to 
Teat  when  he  is  away  from  home,  and  not  dastin'  to  eat 
it  when  it  is  on  the  table.  And  then  again,  sometimes, 
through  his  not  dastin'  to  stop  eatiri'  when  he  gets 
at  it. 

He  went  to  Bobbets'  one  day  in  the  fall  of  the  year, 
— it  was  a  year  ago  this  present  fall.  Cassandra  was  a 
sewin'  for  Miss  Bobbet.  They  had  jest  had  some  new 
corn  ground,  and  they  had  a  new  corn  puddin'  and 
milk  for  dinner. 

Nathan  had  been  to  dinner  jest  before  he  went  in 
there.  His  mother  had  had  a  boiled  dinner,  and 
mince  pie,  and  etcetery — he  had  eat  a  awful  dinner, 
and  was  so  full  he  felt  fairly  uncomfortable.  But 
Miss  Bobbet  urged  him  to  set  down  and  eat,  and 
wouldn't  take  no  refusal.  She  thought  he  was  refus- 
iu'  because  he  was  bashful,  and  she  urged  him  out  of 
his  way,  telling  him  he  must  eat,  and  he,  not  dastin'  to 
refuse  any  longer,  thought  he  would  set  down  and  eat 
a  few  mouthfuls,  if  he  could,  though  it  seemed  to 
him  as  if  he  couldn't  get  down  another  mouthful. 

But  when  he  stopped,  Cassandra,  thinkin'  it  was 
bashfulness  that  made  him  stop,  and  thinkin'  a  good 
deal  of  him  then — and  wantin  him  to  eat  all  the  pud- 
din'  he  wanted,  she  told  him  she  shouldn't  think  he 
showed  good  manners  at  all,  if  he  didn't  eat  as  much 


A  VICTIM  OF  APPETITE. 


209 


as  she  did,  anyway.     So  he  dassent  do  anything  else 
then,  only  jest  eat  as  long  as  they  wanted  him  to,  and 


he  did.  Miss  Bobbet 
would  press  him  to  have 
his  bowl  filled  up  again 

with  milk>  and  Cassan' 
dra  would  urge  him  to 

have  a  little  more  puddin',  and  he  not  dastin'  to  stop, 
after  she  had  said  what  she  had,  I  spose  he  eat  pretty 
nigh  three  quarts.  It  almost  killed  him.  He  vom- 
ited all  the  way  home,  and  was  laid  up  bed-sick  for 
more'n  two  weeks. 

And  he  has  destroyed  his  clothes  dretfully.     Now 
hats, — 1  spose  it  took  pretty  nigh  all  he  could  earn  to 


210         SUFFERIN'  UNSPEAKABLE. 

keep  himself  in  hats.  When  he  would  go  to  any  new 
place,  or  evenin'  meetings  or  anything,  he  would  muss 
'em  so,  rub  'em,  and  everything — why,  he  couldn't 
keep  no  nap  on  a  hat  at  all,  not  for  any  length  of  time 
— he  would  rub  'em  so,  and  poke  at  em,  and  jab  'em, 
and  wring  'em  when  he  was  feelin'  the  worst.  Why, 
he  got  holt  of  Josiah's  hat,  thinkin'  it  was  hisen,  one 
night  at  a  church  social ;  they  appointed  Nathan  to 
some  office,  and  he  wrung  that  hat  till  there  wasn't  no 
shape  of  a  hat  to  it.  When  Josiah  put  it  on  to  go 
home,  it  was  a  sight  to  behold.  Anybody  would  have 
thought  that  it  was  the  fashion  in  the  Allen  family  to 
wear  hats  for  night-caps,  and  this  had  been  the  family 
hat  to  sleep  in  for  years.  Josiah  was  for  makin'  him 
pay  for  the  wear  and  tear  of  it.  But  I  wouldn't  hear 
a  word  to  it.  I  told  him  breakin'  bruised  reeds,  or 
smokin'  fl  ax,  would  be  tender-hearted  business  com- 
pared to  makin'  anybody  pay  for  such  suflferin's  as 
Nathan  Spooner  had  suffered  that  night.  Says  I,  "  if 
he  wrung  one  mite  of  comfort  out  o'  that  hat,  for  pity 
sake  don't  begrech  it  to  him." 

Why,  I  have  been  so  sorry  for  that  feller  that  I 
didn't  know  what  to  do.  Now  when  he  was  a  courtin' 
Cassandra  (and  how  he  ever  got  up  spunk  enough  to 
court  a  mouse,  is  a  mystery  to  me),  Cassandra  used 
to  sew  for  me,  and  he  would  come  there  evenin's  to 
see  her,  and  set  the  hull  evenin'  long  and  not  say 
nothin',  but  jest  look  at  her,  and  twirl  his  thumbs  one 
over  the  other.  And  I  told  Josiah  "  I  felt  bad  for 


THE    FAMILY    NIGHT-CAP. 


HOW  IT  WAS  POPPED.  213 

him,  and  it  seemed  as  if  his  thumbs  must  give  out 
after  a  while,  and  it  looked  fairly  solemn  to  me,  to 
see  'em  a  goin'  so,  for  evenin'  after  evenin',  and  week 
after  week,  without  any  change." 

And  Josiah  said  there  was  a  change.  He  said 
about  the  middle  of  the  evenin'  he  changed  thumbs, 
and  twirled  'em  the  other  way. 

I  don't  know  whether  it  was  so  or  not.  I  couldn't 
see  no  change ;  and  I  told  Josiah  I  couldn't. 

How  under  the  sun  he  ever  got  up  courage  to  ask 
her  to  marry  him,  is  another  deep  and  mysterious 
mystery,  and  always  has  been.  But  there  are  strange 
things  in  this  world  that  there  hain't  no  use  tryin'  to 
pry  into  and  explain.  But  in  his  feeble  way,  he 
courted  her  a  good  deal,  and  thought  everything  of 
her,  anybody  could  see  that.  And  he  popped  the 
question  to  her,  or  she  to  him,  or  it  popped  itself, 
— anyway  it  was  popped,  and  they  was  married. 

They  said  he  suffered  dretfully  the  day  he  was 
married,  and  acted  strange  and  bad.  They  said  he 
seemed  to  act  sort  o'  paralyzed  and  blind.  And  she 
had  to  take  the  lead,  and  take  holt  of  his  hand,  and 
lead  him  up  to  the  minister,  instead  of  his  leadin' 
her. 

Some  made  fun  of  it,  but  I  didn't.  I  told  'em  I 
presumed  he  was  fairly  blind  for  the  time  bein',  and 
sort  o'  numb,  and  didn't  sense  what  was  passin'  round 
him. 

It  made  it  as  bad  agin  for  him,  to  think  he  fell  jest 


214 


AN  AWKWARD  FALL. 


after  they  was  married.     You  see  he  sort  'o  backed  off 
to  set  down,  for  he  needed  rest.     And  feelin'  so  weak 

and  wobblin'  and 
sort  o'  tottlin',  he 
didn't  back  quite 
fur  enough,  and  sot 


right  down  on  the 
floor.  It  hurt  him 
awfully,  I  s'pose, 
from  their  tell. 

NATHAN   SOT  DOWN. 

He   was    tall,    and 

they  say  he  struck  hard.  But  he  was  too  bashful  to 
have  a  doctor,  or  make  any  fuss,  only  jest  set  there 
where  he  wuz.  Some  think  he  would  have  sot  there 
all  night,  and  not  tried  to  make  a  move  towards  gettin' 
up  at  all.  But  Cassandra  was  proud-spirited,  and 


HOW  HIS  HEALTH  WAS.  215 

helped  him  up  onto  his  feet.  But  they  said  he  acted 
jest  exactly  like  a  fool. 

And  I  told  'em  in  reasonable  axents  "that  I  pre- 
sumed he  wuz  a  fool  for  the  time  hem'."  Says  I, 
"  When  anybody's  senses  are  gone,  they  are  a  fool." 
Says  I,  "  It  is  jest  as  bad  to  be  skairt  out  of  'em,  as 
be  born  without  'em,  as  long  as  it  lasts." 

But  says  I,  "He  knows  enough  when  he  hain't 
skairt  to  death."  And  he  does.  He  is  industrious, 
and  so  is  she,  and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  they  got  along 
first-rate,  and  done  well. 

Wall,  when  we  got  there,  Nathan  was  settin'  by  the 
stove  in  the  settin'-room.  He  was  afraid  of  Alzina 
Ann,  and  was  too  bashful  to  set  down,  or  stand  up,  or 
speak,  or  anything.  And  when  she  asked  him  "  how 
his  health  was,"  he  didn't  say  nothin',  but  looked 
down  on  the  floor,  and  under  his  chair,  and  into  his 
hat,  as  if  he  was  tryin'  to  find  his  health,  and  drive  it 
out,  and  make  it  tell  how  it  was. 

But  she  asked  him  over  agin — she  was  perfectly 
heartless,  or  else  she  didn't  notice  his  sufferin's.  And 
the  second  time  she  asked  him,  he  sort  o'  looked  under 
his  chair  agin,  and  into  his  coat  pocket,  and  seemed  to 
give  up  findin'  his  health  and  makin'  it  speak  for  him, 
so  he  said,  sort  o'  dry  and  husky,  sunthin'  about  bein' 
"  comfortable." 

Which  was  one  of  the  biggest  stories  Nathan 
Spooner  had  told  sence  he  j'ined  the  meetm'-house, 
for  he  wuzn't  comfortable  ;  far  from  it.  His  face  wa» 


216  SOLID  COMFORT. 


red  as  blood,  and  he  was  more  than  half  blind,  I  could 
see  that  by  the  looks  of  his  mean.  But  after  awhile 
he  seemed  to  revive  up  a  little.  He  wuzn't  afraid  of 
me  and  Josiah,  not  very.  And  after  Alzina  Ann  and 
Cassandra  got  engaged  in  talkin,  he  said  quite  a 
number  of  words  to  us,  as  rational  and  straight  as 
anybody.  But  Alzina  Ann  had  to  bring  back  his 
sufferin's  agin,  and  worse  than  he  had  suffered. 

I  hadn't  said  a  word  to  Alzina  Ann  about  Cassan- 
dra's misfortune ;  I  hadn't  mentioned  the  child  to  her. 
He  is  a  dretful  humbly  child,  about  the  humbliest  boy 
I  ever  see  in  my  life.  He  looks  fairly  pitiful  he  is  so 
humbly,  and  he  hain't  more  than  half-witted,  I  think. 
But  Alzina  Ann  couldn't  keep  still ;  she  had  to  flatter 
somebody,  or  sunthin',  so  she  had  to  begin  agin  : 

"  How  much !  how  much !  that  beautiful  little  boy 
looks  like  his  pa !  Don't  you  think  so  ?  "  says  she  to 
Cassandra. 

And  then  she  would  look  at  Nathan,  and  then  at 
the  boy,  in  that  rapt,  enthusiastic  way  of  her'n.  And 
says  she  to  Cassandra : 

"  Hain't  it  a  comfort  to  you  to  think  he  looks  so 
much  like  his  pa  ?  " 

And  Cassandra's  face  would  get  red  as  blood,  and 
I  could  see  by  her  looks  that  she  hadn't  the  least 
idee  what  to  say,  or  do,  she  was  so  awful  wretched, 
and  feerfully  uncomfortable.  And  truly  if  Nathan 
Spooner  could  have  sunk  right  down  through  the  floor 
into  the  suller,  right  into  the  potato-ben,  or  pork- 


CASSANDRA'S  MISFORTUNE, 


THE  ROMAN  NOSE.  219 

barrell,  it  would  have  been  one  of  the  most  blessed 
reliefs  to  him  that  he  ever  enjoyed. 

If  she  had  said  what  she  had  to  say,  and  then 
left  off ;  but  Alzina  Ann  never'll  do  that ;  she  has  to 
enlarge  on  her  idees.  And  so  she  would  keep  a-askin' 
Cassandra  in  that  rapturous,  admirin'  way  of  her'n,  if 
she  didn't  think  her  boy  had  the  same  noble,  hand- 
some look  and  manners  that  his  father  had.  And 
Cassandra's  face  and  Nathan's  would  be  as  red  as  two 
red  woolen  shirts.  And  then  Alzina  Ann  would  look 
at  the  child's  pug  nose,  and  then  at  Nathan's,  which  is 
a  sort  of  a  Roman  one,  and  the  best  feature  on  his 
face,  as  Josiah  says.  She  would  look  from  one  nose 
to  the  other  as  if  she  admired  both  of  'em  so  she 
couldn't  hardly  stop  lookin'  at  'em,  and  would  ask 
Nathan  "  if  folks  hadn't  told  him  before  how  much  his 
little  boy  resembled  his  pa  ? " 

And  Nathan  didn't  say  nothin'  but  jest  set  there 
red  as  blood,  his  eyes  fixed  and  glarin'  on  the  opposite 
'wall,  a  watchin'  it  as  close  and  wishful  as  if  he  expect- 
ed to  see  a  relief  party  set  out  from  it  to  befriend  him, 
and  shoot  him  down  where  he  sot,  or  drag  him  off 
into  captivity.  Anything  that  would  relieve  him  of 
his  present  sufferin's  he  would  have  hailed  gladly.  I 
could  see  that  by  his  mean. 

But  at  supper-time  worse  was  in  store  for  him. 
Her  supper  was  good — good  enough  for  anybody.  She 
haint  got  a  great  deal  to  do  with,  but  bein'  a  little 
afraid  of  Alzina  Ann,  and  bein'  proud-spirited  and 


220  THE  RIGHT  WAY. 

wantin  to  make  a  good  appearance,  Cassandra  had 
sent  over  and  borrowed  her  mother-in-laws's  white- 
handled  knives,  and  entirely  unbeknown  to  Alzina 
Ann  I  had  carried  her  over  some  tea-spoons  and  other 
things  for  her  comfort,  for  if  Cassandra  means  to  do 
better,  and  try  to  get  along  and  be  respectable,  I  want 
to  encourage  her  all  I  can,  so  I  carried  her  the  spoons. 

But  all  the  time  Cassandra  was  a  settin'  the  table, 
Nathan  looked  worse  and  worse ;  he  looked  so  bad  it 
didn't  seem  as  if  we  could  keep  him  out  of  the  suller. 
He  realized  what  was  in  front  of  him. 

You  see  Cassandra,  bein'  so  determined  to  do  bet- 
ter, and  start  right  in  the  married  life,  made  a  prac- 
tice of  makin'  Nathan  ask  a  blessin'.  But  he  bein'  so 
uncommon  bashful,  it  made  it  awful  hard  for  him  when 
they  had  company.  He  wuzn't  a  professor,  nor  nothin', 
and  it  come  tough  on  him.  He  looked  more  and  more 
as  if  he  would  sink  all  the  while  she  was  a  gettin'  the 
supper  onto  the  table.  And  when  she  was  a  settin' 
the  chairs  round  the  table  he  looked  so  bad  that  I 
didn't  know  but  what  he  would  have  to  have  help  to 
get  to  the  table.  And  he  would  give  the  most  pitiful 
and  bescechin'  looks  onto  Cassandra  that  ever  was, 
but  she  would  shake  her  head  at  him,  and  look  decid- 
ed, and  then  he  would  look  as  if  he  would  wilt  right 
down  agin. 

So,  when  we  got  set  down  to  the  table,  Cassandra 
give  him  a  real  firm  look,  and  he  give  a  kind  of  a  low 
groan,  and  shot  up  his  eyes,  and  Cassandra,  and  me, 


SUCH  BEAUTIFUL  KNIVES.  221 

and  Josiah  put  on  a  becomin'  look  for  the  occasion, 
and  shet  up  our'n,  when,  all  of  a  sudden,  Alzina  Ann — 
she  never  asked  a  blessin'  in  her  own  house,  and  for- 
got that  oilier  folks  did — she  spoke  out  in  a  real  loud, 
admirin'  tone,  and  says  she : 

"  There !  I  will  say  it,  I  never  see  such  beautiful 
knives  as  them  be,  in  my  hull  life.  White-handled 
knives,  with  a  gilt  of  sun-flowers  on  'em,  is  something 
I  always  wanted  to  own,  and  always  thought  I  would 
own.  But  never,  never  did  I  see  any  that  was  so  per- 
fectly beautiful  as  these  are." 

And  she  held  her  knife  out  at  arm's  length,  and 
looked  at  it  admirin'ly,  and  almost  rapturusly. 

Nathan  looked  bad,  dretful  bad,  for  he  see  by 
Cassandra's  looks  that  she  wuzn't  goin'  to  set  him 
free  from  the  blessin'.  And  he  sort  o'  nestled  round, 
and  looked  under  the  table,  a  wishful  and  melancholy 
look,  as  if  he  had  hopes  of  findin'  a  blessin'  there :  as 
if  he  thought  mebby  there  might  be  one  a  layin'  round 
loose  on  the  floor  that  he  could  get  holt  of,  and  so  be 
sot  free  himself.  But  we  didn't  none  on  us  reply  to 
Alzina  Ann,  and  she  seemed  to  kind  o'  quiet  down, 
and  Cassandra  give  Nathan  another  look,  and  he  bent 
his  head,  and  shet  up  his  eyes  agin,  and  she,  and  me, 
and  Josiah  shet  up  our'n.  And  Nathan  was  jest  be- 
ginnin'  agin,  when  Alzina  Ann  broke  out  afresh,  and 
says: 

"  What  wouldn't  I  give  if  I  owned  some  knives  like 


222 


A  TRYIN'  TIME. 


them?     What   a   proud  and  happy  woman  it  would 
make  me." 

That  rousted  us  all  up  agin,  and  never  did  I  see — 
unless  it  was  on  a  funeral  occasion — a  face  look  as 


BAD  FOR  NATHAN. 


Nathan's  face  looked.  Nobody  could  have  blamed  him 
a  mite  if  he  had  gin  up  then,  and  not  made  another 
effort.  But  Cassandra  bein'  so  awful  determined  to 
do  jest  right,  and  start  right  in  the  married  life,  she 
winked  to  Nathan  agin,  as  firm  and  decided  a  wink  as 
I  ever  see  wunk,  and  shet  up  her  eyes,  and  Josiah  and 
I  done  as  she  done,  and  shet  up  our'n. 


NATHAN'S  POLITICS.  223 

And  Nathan  (feelin'  as  if  he  must  sink),  got  all 
ready  to  begin  agin.  He  had  jest  got  his  mouth 
opened,  when  says  Alzina  Ann,  in  that  raptums  way 
of  her'n : 

"  Do  tell  me,  Cassandra,  how  much  did  you  give  for 
these  knives,  and  where  did  you  get  'em?" 

Then  it  was  Cassandra's  turn  to  feel  as  if  she  must 
sink,  for,  bein'  so  proud-spirited,  it  was  like  pullin' 
out  a  sound  tooth  to  tell  Alzina  Ann  they  was  bor- 
rowed. But  bein'  so  sot  in  tryin'  to  do  right  she 
would  have  up  and  told  her.  But  I,  feelin'  sorry  for 
her,  branched  right  off,  and  asked  Nathan  "  if  he  layed 
out  to  vote  republican  or  democrat." 

Cassandra  sithed,  and  went  to  pourin'  out  the  tea. 
And  Nathan,  feelin'  so  relieved,  brightened  up,  and 
spoke  up  like  a  man,  the  first  words  he  spoke  out  loud 
and  plain,  like  a  human  bein',  that  day — says  he  : 

"  If  things  turn  out  with  me  as  I  hope  they  will,  I 
calc'late  to  vote  for  old  Peter  Cooper." 

I  could  see  by  the  looks  of  Josiah's  mean  that  he 
was  a  gettin'  kinder  sick  of  Alzina  Ann,  and  (though 
I  haint  got  a  jealous  hair  in  the  hull  of  my  back-hair 
and  foretop)  I  didn't  care  a  mite  if  he  wnz.  But  truly 
worse  wuz  to  come. 

After  supper  Josiah  and  me  was  a  settin'  in  the 
spare  room  close  to  the  window,  a  lookin'  through 
Cassandra's  album,  when  we  heard  Alzina  Ann  and 
Cassandra  out  under  the  window  a-lookin'  at  the  posy 
beds,  when  Alzina  Ann  says : 


224  ALZINA  SHOWS  HER  COLORS. 

"You  must  excuse  my  lookin'  at  you  so  much, 
Cassandra,  but  you  are  so  lovely  and  fair-lookin'  that 
I  can't  keep  my  eyes  offen  you.  And  what  a  noble- 
appearin'  husband  you  have  got — perfectly  splendid! 
And  how  pleasant  it  is  here  to  your  house — perfectly 
beautiful!  Seein'  we  are  such  friends  to  her,  I  feel 
free  to  tell  you  what  a  awful  state  I  find  Josiah  Allen's 
wife's  house  in.  Not  a  mite  of  a  carpet  on  her  settin'- 
room  floor,  and  nothin'  gives  a  room  such  a  awful  look 
as  that.  She  said  it  was  up  to  mend,  but,  between  you 
and  me,  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it.  I  believe  it  was 
up  for  some  other  purpose,  somethin'  she  didn't  want 
to  tell. 

"And  the  curtains  was  down  in  my  room,  and  I  had 
to  sleep  all  the  first  night  in  that  condition.  I  might 
jest  as  well  set  up,  for  I  could  not  sleep,  it  looked  so. 
And  when  she  got  'em  up  the  next  mornin',  they 
wuzn't  nothin'  but  plain,  white  muslin.  I  should 
think  she  could  afford  something  a  little  more  decent 
than  that  for  her  spare  room.  And  she  hadn't  a  mite 
of  fruit  cake  in  the  house,  only  two  kinds  of  common- 
lookin'  cake.  She  said  Josiah  forgot  to  give  her  my 
letter,  and  she  didn't  get  word  I  was  comin'  till  about 
ten  minutes  before  I  got  there ;  but,  between  you  and 
me,  I  never  believed  that  for  a  minute.  I  believe  they 
got  up  that  story  between  'em  to  excuse  it  off,  things 
lookin'  so.  If  I  wuzn't  such  a  friend  of  hern,  and 
didn't  think  such  a  sight  of  her,  I  wouldn't  mention  it 


THE  MIGHTY  FALL.  225 

for  the  world.  But  I  think  everything  of  her,  and 
everybody  knows  I  do,  so  I  feel  free  to  talk  about  her. 

"  How  humbly  she  has  growed !  Don't  you  think  so  ? 
And  her  mind  seems  to  be  kind  o'  runnin'  down.  For 
how  under  the  sun  she  can  think  so  much  of  that  sim- 
ple old  husband  of  hern  is  a  mystery  to  me,  unless  she 
is  growin'  foolish.  If  it  was  your  husband,  Cassandra, 
nobody  would  wonder  at  it,  such  a  splendid,  noble- 
appearin'  gentleman  as  he  is.  But  Josiah  Allen  was 
always  a  poor,  insignificant-lookin'  creeter  ;  and  now 
he  is  the  humbliest,  and  foolishest,  and  meachin'est- 
lookin'  creeter  I  ever  sec  in  human  shape.  And  he 
looks  as  old  as  Grandfather  Rickerson,  every  mite  as 
old,  and  he  is  most  ninety.  And  he  is  vain  as  a  pea- 
hen." 

I  jest  glanced  round  at  Josiah,  and  then  instinctively 
I  looked  away  agin.  His  countenance  was  perfectly 
awful.  Truly,  the  higher  we  are  up  the  worse  it  hurts 
us  to  fall  down.  Bcin'  lifted  up  on  such  a  height  of 
vanity  and  vain-glory,  and  fallin'  down  from  it  so 
sudden,  it  most  broke  his  neck  (speakin'  in  a  poetical 
and  figurative  way).  I,  myself,  havin'  had  doubts  of 
her  all  the  time,  didn't  feel  nigh  so  worked  up  and 
curious,  it  more  sort  o'  madded  me,  it  kind  o'  operated 
in  that  way  on  me.  And  so,  when  she  begun  agin  to 
run  Josiah  and  me  down  to  the  lowest  notch,  called  us 
all  to  naught,  made  out  we  wuzn't  hardly  fit  to  live, 
and  was  most  fools,  and  then  says  agin: 


226 


A  LOFTY  SlEAN. 


"  I  wouldn't  say  a  word  aginst  'em  for  the  world  if 
I  wuzn't  such  a  friend  to  'em—" 
Then  I  riz  right  up,  and  stood  in  the  open  window ; 


and  it  come  up  in 
front  of  me  some 
like  a  pulpit,  and 
1  s'pose  my  mean 
looked  considera- 
ble like  a  preacher's 

when  they  get  carried  away  with  the  subject,  and 

almost  by  the  side  of  themselves. 

Akina  Ann  quailed  the  minute  she  sot  her  eyes  on 


FACE  TO  FACE. 


MY  TALK  ON  FRIENDSHIP.  227 


me,  as  much  or  more  than  any  minister  ever  made  a 
congregation  quail,  and,  says  she,  in  tremblin'  tones  : 

"  You  know  anybody  will  take  liberties  with  a  friend 
that  they  wouldn't  with  anybody  else." 

Says  I,  in  deep,  awful  tones,  "  I  never  believed  in 
knockin'  folks  down  to  show  off  that  we  are  inti- 
mate with  'em." 

"  Wall,"  says  she,  "you  know  I  do  think  everything 
in  the  world  of  you.  You  know  I  shouldn't  have  said 
a  word  aginst  you  if  I  wuzn't  such  a  warm  friend  of 
yourn." 

"  Friend !  "  says  I,  in  awful  axents,  "  friend !  Alzina 
Ann  Rickerson,  you  don't  know  no  more  about  that 
word  than  if  you  never  see  a  dictionary.  You  don't 
know  the  true  meanin'  of  that  word  no  more  than  a 
African  babe  knows  about  slidin'  down  hill." 

Says  I,  "  The  Bible  gives  a  pretty  good  idee  of  what 
it  means :  it  speaks  of  a  man  layin'  down  his  life  for 
.his  friend.  Dearer  to  him  than  his  own  life.  Do  you 
s'pose  such  a  friendship  as  that  would  be  a  mistrustin' 
round,  a  tryin'  to  rake  up  every  little  fault  they  could 
lay  holt  of,  and  talk  'em  over  with  everybody  ?  Do  you 
s'pose  it  would  creep  round  under  windows  and  back- 
bite and  slander  a  Josiah  ? " 

I  entirely  forgot  for  the  moment  that  she  had  been 
a  talkin'  about  me,  for  truly  abuse  heaped  upon  mf 
pardner  seems  ten  times  as  hard  to  bear  up  under  as 
if  it  was  heaped  upon  me. 

Josiah  whispered  to  me  :  "That  is  right,  Samantha! 


228  RBSPHCTABLE  ENMITY. 

give  it  to  her!"  and,  upheld  bj  duty  and  that  dear 
man,  I  went  on,  and  says  I : 

"My  friends,  those  I  love  and  who  love  me,  arc 
sacred  to  me.  Their  well-being  and  their  interest  is 
as  dear  to  me  as  my  own.  I  love  to  have  others  praise 
them,  prize  them  as  I  do  ;  and  I  should  jest  as  soon 
think  of  goin'  round  tryin'  to  rake  and  scrape  sunthin' 
to  say  aginst  myself  as  aginst  them." 

Agin  I  paused  for  breath,  and  agin  Josiah  whis- 
pered : 

"  That  is  right,  Samantha !  give  it  to  her ! " 

Worshipin'  that  man  as  I  do,  his  words  was  far 
more  inspirin'  and  stimulatin'  to  me  than  root  beer. 
Agin  I  went  on,  and  says  I : 

"  Maybe  it  hain't  exactly  accordin'  to  Scripture,  but 
there  is  somethin'  respectable  in  open  enmity — in  be- 
ginnin'  your  remarks  about  anybody  honestly,  in  this 
way :  *  Now  I  detest  and  despise  that  man,  and  I  am 
goin'  to  try  to  relieve  my  mind  by  talkin'  about  him 
jest  as  bad  as  I  can ; '  and  then  proceed  and  tear  him  to 
pieces  in  a  straightforward,  manly  way.  I  don't  s'pose 
such  a  course  would  be  upheld  by  the  'postles.  But 
there  is  a  element  of  boldness  and  courage  in  it 
amountin'  almost  to  grandeur,  when  compared  to 
this  kind  of  talk :  '  I  think  everything  in  the  world  of 
that  man.  I  think  he  is  jest  as  good  as  he  can  be,  and 
he  hain't  got  a  better  friend  in  the  world  than  I  am ; ' 
and  then  go  on,  and  say  all  you  can  to  injure  him. 

"  Why,  a  pirate  runs  up  his  skeleton  and  cross-bare 


WORSE  THAN  A  PIRATE.  229 

when  he  is  goin'  to  rob  and  pillage.  I  think,  Alzina 
Ann,  if  I  was  in  your  place  I  would  make  a  great 
effort,  and  try  and  be  as  noble  and  magnanimous  as  a 
pirate." 

Alzina  Ann  looked  like  a  white  hollyhawk  that  had 
been  withered  by  a  untimely  frost.  But  Cassandra 
looked  tickled  (she  hadn't  forgot  her  sufferin's,  and 
the  sufferin's  of  Nathan  Spooner).  And  my  Josiah 
looked  proud  and  triumphant  in  mean.  And  he 
told  me  in  confidence,  a  goin'  home  (and  I  wouldn't 
wish  it  spoke  of  agin,  for  folks  might  think  it  was 
foolish  in  me  to  tell  such  little  admirin'  speeches 
that  a  companion  will  make  in  moments  of  harmony 
and  confidence).  But  he  said  that  he  hadn't  seen 
me  look  so  good  to  him  as  I  did  when  I  stood  there  in 
the  winder,  not  for  much  as  thirteen  years.  Says 
he: 

"  Samantha,  you  looked  almost  perfectly  beautiful." 
That  man  worships  the  ground  I  walk  on,  and  I  do 
hisen. 


THE  LORDS  OF  CREATION. 

JOSIAH  Allen  is  awful  tickled  to  think  lie  is  a  man. 
He  has  said  so  to  me,  time  and  agin.  And  I  don't 
wonder  a  mite  at  it.  Men  are  first-rate  creeters,  and 
considerable  good-lookin'.  I  have  always  said  so. 
And  they  have  such  glorious  chances  to  be  noble  and 
grand,  and  to  work  for  the  true  and  the  right,  that  I 
don't  wonder  a  mite  that  Josiah  feels  just  as  he  duz  feel. 
And  when  Josiah  tells  me  how  highly  tickled  he  is 
he  is  a  man — when  he  says  it  in  a  sort  of  a  pensive 
and  dreamy  way,  kinder  iniselanious  like — I  don't  re- 
sent it  in  him  but  on  the  contrary  approve  of  it 
in  him,  highly.  But  once  in  a  while  he  will  get  to 
feelin'  kind  o'  cross  and  uppish,  and  say  it  to  me  in  a 
sort  of  a  twittin'  way,  and  boastin'. 

Mebby  he  will  begin  by  readin'  out  loud  to  me  sun- 
thin'  against  wimmen's  rights,  in  the  World  or 
almanac,  or  some  other  high-toned  periodical;  some- 
times it  will  be  awful  cuttin'  arguments  aginst  wim- 
men.  And  after  he  gets  through  readin'  it-  he  will 

(230) 


JOSIAH'S  OPINION  OF  WIMMEN.  231 

speak  out  in  such  a  sort  of  a  humiliatin'  way  about 
how  awful  tickled  he  is,  he  is  a  man,  so  he  can  vote, 
and  help  keep  the  glorious  old  state  of  New  York  on 
its  firm  basis  of  nobility,  morality,  and  wise  economy. 

Why,  says  he  to  me  the  other  afternoon  (feelin' 
fractious  was  the  cause  of  his  sayin'  it  at  the  time), 
says  lie:  "Wimmen  are  dretful  simple  creeters;  gos- 
sipin',  weak,  weak-minded,  frivolous  bein's;  extrav- 
agant, given  to  foolish  display.  They  don't  mind  the 
cost  of  things  if  they  can  only  make  a  big  show.  So 
different  from  men,  they  be.  Why,"  says  he  proudly  and 
boastfully,  "  you  never  in  your  life  ketched  a  man  gos- 
sipin'  over  their  neighbors'  affairs.  You  never  see  'em 
meddlin'  the  least  mite  with  scandal  and  evil  talkin'. 
Men  are  economical,  sound-minded.  They  spend  only 
jest  what  they  need,  what  is  useful — nothin'  more,  not 
a  cent  more.  Why,"  says  he,  "take  it  with  wim- 
men's  foolish  extravagance  and  love  of  display,  what 
would  the  glorious  old  state  of  New  York  come  to  if 
it  was  sot  under  her  rain?  And  they  are  so  weak, 
too, — wimmen  be.  Why,  old  Error  would  take  'em  by 
the  nose  "  (Josiah,  I  think,  is  a  practicin'  allegory.  He 
uses  flowery  rhetoricks  and  simelys  as  much  agin  as  he 
used  to  use  'em.)  And  he  repeated  agin,  with  a  haughty 
look :  "  Old  Error  would  take  'em  by  the  nose,  as  it 
were,  and  lead  'em  into  all  sorts  of  indiscretions,  and 
weakness,  and  wickedness,  before  they  knew  it. 

"  Why,  if  we  men  of  New  York  state  had  a  woman's 

incapability  of  grapplin'  with  wrong,  and  overthrowin' 
9* 


232  A  MOP-STICK  GESTURE. 

of  it ;  if  we  had  her  love  of  scandal  and  gossip ;  if  we 
had  her  extravagance  and  love  of  display,  where 
would  the  glorious  old  state  of  New  York  be  to-day  ? 
Where  would  her  morals  be  ?  Where  would  her  finan- 
kle  and  money  affairs  be  ?  " 

And  Josiah  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  and  crossed 
his  legs  over  each  other,  as  satisfied  and  contented  a 
crossin'  as  I  ever  see,  and  says  agin : 

"  If  I  was  ever  proud  and  tickled  about  anything  in 
my  life,  Samantha  Allen,  I  am  tickled  to  think  I  am  a 
man." 

He  had  been  readin'  a  witherin'  piece  out  of  the 
almanac  to  me — an  awful  deep,  skareful  piece  aginst 
wimmcn's  suffrage.  And  feelin'  cross  and  fractious, 
he  did  look  so  awful  overbearin'  and  humiliatin'  onto 
me,  on  account  of  my  bein'  a  woman,  that  I  sp runted 
right  up  and  freed  my  mind  to  him.  I  am  very  close- 
mouthed  naturally,  and  say  but  very  little,  but  I  can't 
stand  everything. 

While  he  was  talkin'  I  had  been  a  fixin'  a  new  tow 
mop  that  I  had  been  a  spinnin'  into  my  patented  mop- 
stick,  and  had  jest  got  it  done.  And  I  riz  right  up 
and  pinted  with  it  at  a  picture  of  the  new  capitol  at 
Albany  that  hung  over  the  sink.  It  was  a  noble  and 
commandin'  gesture  (though  hard  to  the  wrist).  It 
impressed  him  dretfully,  I  could  see  it  did.  I  had  that 
sort  of  a  lofty  way  with  me  as  I  gestured,  and  went  on 
in  awful  tones  to  say: 

"  When  you  look  at  that  buildin',  Jo&iah  Allen,  no 


THE  NEW  STATE  HOUSE. 


233 


wonder  you  talk  about  wimmen's  extravagance  and 
foolish  love  of  display,  and  the  econimy  and  firm  com- 
mon sense  of  the  male  voters  of  the  state  of  New 
York,  and    their    wise 
expenditure    of    public 
money.     When  you  and       -; 
a  passel  of  other  men 

L 


get  together  and  vote  to 
build    a   house    costin' 


nine  or  ten  millions 
of  dollars  to  make 
laws  in  so  small  that 
wimmen  might  well 
be  excused  for 

thinkin'  they  was  made  in  a  wood-shed  or  behind  a 

barn-door." 

Says  I,  lowerin'  down  my  mop-stick,  for  truly  my 


A  MONUMENT  OF  MEN'S  ECONOMY. 


234  IMPORTANT  AS  A  GANDER. 

arm  was  weary — gesturin'  in  eloquence  with  a  mop- 
stick  is  awful  fatiguin' — says  I,  "As  long  as  that 
monument  of  man's  wisdom  and  econimy  stands  there, 
no  man  need  to  be  afraid  that  a  woman  will  ever  dast 
to  speak  about  wantin'  to  have  any  voice  in  public 
affairs,  any  voice  in  the  expenditure  of  her  own  prop- 
erty and  income  tax.  No,  she  won't  dast  to  do  it,  for 
man's  thrifty,  prudent  common  sense  and  superior 
econimy  has  been  shown  in  that  buildin'  to  a  extent 
that  is  fairly  skareful." 

It  is  a  damper  onto  anybody  when  they  have  been  a 
talkin'  sarcastical  and  ironical,  to  have  to  come  out 
and  explain  what  you  are  a  doin'.  But  I  see  that  I 
had  got  to,  for  ever  sense  I  had  lowered  my  mop-stick 
and  axent,  Josiah  had  looked  chirker  and  chirker,  and 
now  he  sot  there,  lookin'  down  at  his  almanac,  as  satis- 
fied and  important  as  a  gander  walkin'  along  in  front 
of  nineteen  new  goslin's.  He  thought  I  was  a  praisin' 
men.  And  says  I,  comin'  out  plain,  "  Look  up  here, 
Josiah  Allen,  and  let  me  wither  you  with  my  glance  ! 
I  am  a  talkin'  sarcastical,  and  would  wish  to  be  so 
understood!" 

But  I  was  so  excited  that  before  I  had  fairly  got  out 
of  that  ironical  tone,  I  fell  into  it  agin  deeper  than 
ever  (though  entirely  unbeknown  to  me),  and  says  I: 

"As  to  woman's  love  of  gossip  and  scandal,  and 
man's  utter  aversion  to  it,  let  your  mind  fall  back  four 
years,  Josiah  Allen,  if  you  think  it  is  strong  enough  to 
bear  the  fall." 


A  SWEET  REMEMBRANCE.  235 

And  I  went  on  in  a  still  more  ironicler  tone.  I 
don't  know  as  I  ever  see  a  more  ironicler  axent  in  my 
hull  life  than  mine  was  as  1  went  on,  and  says : 

"  How  sweet  it  must  be  for  men  to  look  back  and 
reflect  on  it,  that  while  wimmen  gloated  over  the 
details  of  that  scandalous  gossip,  not  a  man  through- 
out the  nation  ever  gave  it  a  thought.  And  while 
female  wimmen,  crazy  and  eager-eyed,  stood  in  knots 
at  their  clubs  and  on  street  corners  holdin'  each  other 
by  the  bunnet-strings  a  talkin'  it  over,  and  rushed 
eagerly  to  the  post-office  to  try  to  get  the  latest  details, 
how  sweet  to  think  that  the  manly  editor  all  over  the 
land  stood  up  in  man's  noble  strength  and  purity,  and 
with  a  firm  eye  on  the  public  morals  and  the  welfare 
of  the  young  and  innocent,  and  happily  ignorant, 
refused  to  gratify  woman's  rampent  curiosity,  and  said 
nothing  of  the  matter,  not  a  word,  in  editorial  or  news 
column ;  but  all  through  those  long  months  filled  up 
their  pages  with  little  moral  essays,  and  cuttin'  articles 
on  their  hatred  of  gossip  and  scandal.  And  when, 
with  unsatisfied,  itchin'  ears,  wives  would  question 
their  husbands  concernin'  the  chief  actors  in  the 
drama,  their  pure-minded  husbands  would  rebuke 
them  and  say,  'Cease,  woman,  to  trouble  me.  We 
know  them  not.  We  have  as  yet  spake  no  word  upon 
the  subject,  and  we  will  not  be  led  into  speakin'  of  it 
by  any  woman,  not  even  the  wife  of  our  youth." 

Josiah  looked  meachener  and  meachener,  till,  as  I 
got  through,  it  seemed  as  if  he  had  got  to  the  very 


236 


HOW  IT  REALLY  WAS. 


bounds  of  meach.  He  knew  well  how  many  times 
that  old  mare  had  gone  to  Jonesville  for  the  last 
World,  long  before  its  time,  so  in  hopes  it  would  be  a 
little  ahead  of  its  time,  so  he  could  get  the  latest 


ON  THE  RAGGED  EDGE. 

gossip  and  scandal,  and  get  ahead  of  old  Gowdey,  who 
took  the  Times,  and  old  Cypher,  who  took  the  Sun. 
He  knew  jest  how  that  post-office  was  fairly  blocked  up 
with  men,  pantin'  and  sweaty  with  runnin',  every  time 
the  other  mails  come  in.  And  he  knew  well,  Josiah 
Allen  did,  how  he  and  seven  or  eight  other  old  Metho- 
dist brethren  got  to  talkin'  about  it  so  engaged  out 


i 


UNDER  THE   MEETING  -HOUSE    SHED. 


AN  OPPOSITION  MEETING  239 

under  the  meetin'-house  shed,  one  day,  that  they  for- 
got themselves,  and  never  come  into  meetin'  at  all. 
And  we  wimmen  sisters  had  to  go  out  there  to  find 
'em,  after  the  meetin'  was  over.  He  remembered  it, 
Josiah  Allen  did,  I  see  that  by  his  mean. 

He  didn't  say  a  word,  but  sot  there  smit  and  con- 
science-struck. And  then  I  dropped  my  ironical  tone, 
and  took  up  my  awful  one,  that  I  use  a  talkin'  on 
principle.  I  took  up  my  very  heaviest  and  awfulest 
one,  as  I  resumed  and  continued  on. 

"  I  would  talk  if  I  was  in  your  place,  Josiah  Allen, 
about  wimmen's  ruinin'  old  New  York  State  if  they 
voted.  I  would  soar  off  into  simelys  if  I  was  in  your 
place,  and  talk  about  their  bein'  led  by  the  nose  into 
wickedness — and  grow  eloquent  over  their  weakness 
and  inability  to  grapple  with  error — when  ten  hundred 
thousand  male  voters  of  the  state  stand  with  their 
hands  in  their  pockets,  or  whittlin'  shingles,  or  tradin' 
jack-knives,  or  readin'  almanacs,  and  etcetery,  and  let 
an  evil  go  right  on  in  their  midst  that  would  have  dis- 
graced old  Sodom. 

"  Why,  it  is  a  wonder  to  me  that  the  pure  waters  of 
old  Oneida  don't  fairly  groan  as  they  wash  up  on  the 
shores  that  they  can't  cleanse  from  this  impurity,  but 
would  if  they  could,  I  know.  She  don't  approve  of  it, 
that  old  lake  don't — she  don't  approve  of  anything  of 
that  kind,  no  more  than  I  do.  She  and  I  and  the 
other  wimmen  of  the  state  would  make  short  work  of 
such  iniquities  if  we  had  our  say. 


240  RELIGIOUS  INIQUITY. 

"  But  there  them  ten  hundred  thousand  male  voters 
stand,  calm  and  happy,  all  round  the  Community,  in 
rows  and  clusters ;  porin'  over  almanacs,  and  whistlin' 
new  and  various  whistles  (Josiah  had  broke  out  into  a 
very  curious  whistle)  and  contemplate  the  sin  with 
composure  and  contentment. 

And  superintendents  of  Sabbath-schools  and  Young 
Men's  Christian  Associations  will  make  excursions  to 
admire  them  and  their  iniquity,  to  imbibe  bad  thoughts 
and  principles  unconsciously,  but  certainly,  as  one 
inevitably  must  when  they  behold  a  crime  masked 
in  beauty,  in  garments  of  peace  and  order  and  indus- 
try. And  railroad  managers  will  carry  the  young,  the 
easily-impressed,  and  the  innocent  at  half  price,  so 
eager,  seemin'ly,  that  they  should  behold  sin  wreathin' 
itself  in  flowers,  guilt  arrayin'  itself  in  festal  robes  to 
lure  the  unwary  footsteps." 

"  Wall,"  says  Josiah,  "  I  guess  I'll  go  out  and 
milk." 

And  i  told  him  he  had  better. 


AN  EXERTION  AFTER  PLEASURE. 

WALL,  the  very  next  mornin'  Josiah  got  up  with 
a  new  idee  in  his  head.  And  he  broached  it 
to  me  to  the  breakfast  table.  They  have  been  havin' 
sights  of  pleasure  exertions  here  to  Jonesville  lately. 
Every  week  a'most  they  would  go  off  on  a  exertion 
after  pleasure,  and  Josiah  was  all  up  on  end  to  go  too. 

That  man  is  a  well-principled  man  as  I  ever  see,  but 
if  ho  had  his  head  he  would  be  worse  than  any  young 
man  1  ever  see  to  foller  up  picnics  and  4th  of  Julys 
and  camp-meetin's  and  all  pleasure  exertions.  But  I 
don't  encourage  him  in  it.  I  have  said  to  him  time 
and  again:  "There  is  a  time  for  everything,  Josiah 
Allen,  and  after  anybody  has  lost  all  their  teeth  and 
every  mite  of  hair  on  the  top  of  their  head,  it  is  time 
for  'em  to  stop  goin'  to  pleasure  exertions." 

But  good  land !  I  might  jest  as  well  talk  to  the  wind ! 
If  that  man  should  get  to  be  as  old  as  Mr.  Methusler, 
and  be  goin'  on  a  thousand  years  old,  he  would  prick 
up  his  ears  if  he  should  hear  of  a  exertion.  All  sum- 

(241) 


242  A  HARD  THIN0  TO  CATCH. 

mer  long  that  man  has  beset  me  to  go  to  'em,  for  he 
wouldn't  go  without  me.  Old  Bunker  Hill  himself 
hain't  any  sounder  in  principle  than  Josiah  Allen,  and 
I  have  had  to  work  head-work  to  make  excuses  and 
quell  him  down.  But  last  week  they  was  goin'  to  have 
one  out  on  the  lake,  on  a  island,  and  that  man  sot  his 
foot  down  that  go  he  would. 

We  was  to  the  breakfast-table  a  talkin'  it  over,  and 
says  I: 

"I  shan't  go,  for  I  ana  afraid  of  big  water,  anyway." 

Says  Josiah :  "  You  are  jest  as  liable  to  be  killed  in 
one  place  as  another." 

Says  I,  with  a  almost  frigid  air,  as  I  passed  him  his 
coffee:  "Mebby  I  shall  be  drounded  on  dry  land, 
Josiah  Allen,  but  I  don't  believe  it." 

Says  he,  in  a  complainin'  tone:  "I  can't  get  you 
started  onto  a  exertion  for  pleasure  any  way." 

Says  I,  in  a  almost  eloquent  way:  "I  don't  believe 
in  makin'  such  exertions  after  pleasure.  As  I  have 
told  you  time  and  agin,  I  don't  believe  in  chasm'  of 
her  up.  Let  her  come  of  her  own  free  will.  You  can't 
ketch  her  by  chasin'  after  her  no  more  than  you  can 
fetch  up  a  shower  in  a  drowth  by  goin'  out  doors  and 
runnin'  after  a  cloud  up  in  the  heavens  above  you. 
Sit  down  and  be  patient,  and  when  it  gets  ready  the 
rcfreshin'  rain-drops  will  begin  to  fall  without  none  of 
your  help.  And  it  is  jest  so  with  pleasure,  Josiah 
Allen  ;  you  may  chase  her  up  over  all  the  oceans  and 
big  mountains  of  the  earth,  and  she  will  keep  ahead  of 


BOUND  TO  HAVE  HIS  WAY.  243 

you  all  the  time ;  but  set  down  and  not  fatigue  your- 
yourself  a  thinkin'  about  her.  and  like  as  not  she  will 
come  right  into  your  house  unbeknown  to  you." 

"  Wall,"  says  he,  "  I  guess  I'll  have  another  griddle- 
cake,  Samantha." 

And  as  he  took  it,  and  poured  the  maple-syrup  over 
it,  he  added  gently,  but  firmly : 

"  I  shall  go,  Samantha,  to  this  exertion,  and  I  should 
be  glad  to  have  you  present  at  it,  because  it  seems  jest 
to  me  as  if  I  should  fall  overboard  durin'  the  day." 

Men  are  deep.  Now  that  man  knew  that  no  amount 
of  religious  preachin'  could  stir  me  up  like  that  one 
speech.  For  though  I  hain't  no  hand  to  coo,  and  don't 
encourage  him  in  bein'  spoony  at  all,  he  knows  that  I 
am  wrapped  almost  completely  up  in  him.  I  went. 

Wall,  the  day  before  the  exertion  Kellup  Cobb  come 
into  our  house  of  a  errant,  and  I  asked  him  if  he  was 
goin'  to  the  exertion ;  and  he  said  he  would  like  to 
go,  but  he  dassent. 

"  Dassent !  "  says  I.     "  Why  dassent  you  ?  " 

"  Why,"  says  he,  "  how  would  the  rest  of  the  wim- 
men  round  Jonesville  feel  if  1  should  pick  out  one 
woman  and  wait  on  her  ?  "  Says  he  bitterly :  "  I  hain't 
perfect,  but  I  hain't  such  a  cold-blooded  rascal  as  not 
to  have  any  regard  for  wimmen's  feelin's.  I  hain't  no 
heart  to  spile  all  the  comfort  of  the  day  for  ten  or  a 
dozen  wimmen." 

"  Why,"  says  I,  in  a  dry  tone, "  one  woman  would  be 
happy  accordin'  to  your  tell." 


244  BEARING  HIS  CROSS. 

"  Yes,  one  woman  happy,  and  ten  or  fifteen  gauled 
— bruised  in  the  tenderest  place." 

"  On  their  heads  ? "  says  I  enquirin'ly. 

"  No,"  says  he,  "  their  hearts.  All  the  girls  have 
probable  had  more  or  less  hopes  that  I  would  invite 
'em — make  a  choice  of  'em.  But  when  the  blow  was 
struck,  when  I  had  passed  'em  by  and  invited  some 
other,  some  happier  woman,  how  would  them  slighted 
ones  feel  ?  How  do  you  s'pose  they  would  enjoy  the 
day,  seein'  me  with  another  woman,  and  they  droopin' 
round  without  me  ?  That  is  the  reason,  Josiah  Allen's 
wife,  that  I  dassen't  go.  It  hain't  the  keepin'  of  my 
horse  through  the  day  that  stops  me.  For  I  could 
carry  a  quart  of  oats  and  a  little  jag  of  hay  in  the  bot- 
tom of  the  buggy.  If  I  had  concluded  to  pick  out  a 
girl  and  go,  I  had  got  it  all  fixed  out  in  my  mind  how 
I  would  manage.  I  had  thought  it  over,  while  I  was 
ondecided,  and  duty  was  a  strugglin'  with  me.  But  I 
was  made  to  see  where  the  right  way  for  me  lay,  and 
I  am  goin'  to  foller  it.  Joe  Purday  is  goin'  to  have 
my  horse,  and  give  me  seven  shillin's  for  the  use  of  it 
and  its  keepin'.  He  come  to  hire  it  just  before  1  made 
up  my  mind  that  I  hadn't  ort  to  go. 

"  Of  course  it  is  a  cross  to  me.  But  1  am  willin'  to 
bear  crosses  for  the  fair  sect.  Why,"  says  he,  a 
comin'  out  in  a  open,  generous  way,  "I  would  be 
willin',  if  necessary  for  the  general  good  of  the  fair 
sect — I  would  be  willin'  to  sacrifice  ten  cents  for  'em, 
or  pretty  nigh  that,  1  wish  so  well  to  'em.  I  hain't  that 


HE  TOOK  THE  HINT.  245 

enemy  to  'em  that  they  think  I  am.  I  can't  marry 
'em  all,  Heaven  knows  I  can't,  but  I  wish  'em  well." 

"Wall,"  says  I,  "I  guess  my  dish-water  is  hot;  it 
must  be  pretty  near  bilin'  by  this  time." 

And  he  took  the  hint  and  started  off.  I  see  it 
wouldn't  do  no  good  to  argue  with  him,  that  wimmen 
didn't  worship  him.  For  when  a  feller  once  gets  it 
into  his  head  that  female  wimmen  are  all  after  him, 
you  might  jest  as  well  dispute  the  wind  as  argue  with 
him.  You  can't  convince  him  nor  the  wind — neither 
of  'em — so  what's  the  use  of  wastin'  breath  on  'em. 
And  I  didn't  want  to  spend  a  extra  breath  that  day, 
anyway,  knowin'  I  had  such  a  hard  day's  work  in  front 
of  me,  a  finishin'  cookin'  up  provisions  for  the  exer 
tion,  and  gettin'  things  done  up  in  the  house  so  1  could 
leave  'em  for  all  day. 

We  had  got  to  start  about  the  middle  of  the  night, 
for  the  lake  was  15  miles  from  Jonesville,  and  the  old 
mare  bein'  so  slow,  we  had  got  to  start  an  hour  or  two 
ahead  of  the  rest.  I  told  Josiah  in  the  first  on't,  that 
I  had  jest  as  lives  set  up  all  night,  as  to  be  routed  out 
at  two  o'clock.  But  he  was  so  animated  and  happy  at 
the  idee  of  goin'  that  he  looked  on  the  bright  side  of 
everything,  and  he  said  that  we  would  go  to  bed  before 
dark,  and  get  as  much  sleep  as  we  commonly  did. 
So  we  went  to  bed  the  sun  an  hour  high.  And  I  was 
truly  tired  enough  to  lay  down,  for  I  had  worked  dret- 
ful  hard  that  day,  almost  beyond  my  strength.  But 
we  hadn't  more'n  got  settled  down  into  the  bed,  when 


246 


EVENING  CALLERS. 


we  heard  a  buggy  and  a  single  wagon  stop  at  the  gate, 
and  I  got  up  and  peeked  through  the  window,  and  I 
see  it  was  visitors  coine  to  spend  the  evenin'.  Elder 
Bamber  and  his  family,  and  Deacon  Dobbins'es  folks. 


ROUTED  OUT. 

Josiah  vowed  that  he  wouldn't  stir  one  step  out  of 
that  bed  that  night.  But  I  argued  with  him  pretty 
sharp,  while  I  was  throwin'  on  my  clothes,  and  I 
finally  got  him  started  up.  I  hain't  deceitful,  but  I 
thought  if  I  got  my  clothes  all  on,  before  they  came 
in,  I  wouldn't  tell  'em  that  I  had  been  to  bed  that 
time  of  day.  And  I  did  get  all  dressed  up,  even  to 


DECEIVED  THE  DEACON. 


247 


my  handkerchief  pin.  And  I  guess  they  had  been 
there  as  much  as  ten  minutes  before  I  thought  that  I 
hadn't  took  my  night-cap  off.  They  looked  dretful 
curious  at  me,  and  I  felt  awful  meachin'.  But  I  jest 
ketched  it  off,  and  never  said  nothin'.  But  when 
Josiah  come  out  of  the  bedroom  with  what  little  hair 


"MUKDER  WILL  OUT." 

he  has  got  standin'  out  in  every  direction,  no  two 
hairs  a  layin'  the  same  way,  and  one  of  his  galluses  a 
hangin'  most  to  the  floor  under  his  best  coat,  I  up  and 
told  'em.  I  thought  mebby  they  wouldn't  stay  long. 
But  Deacon  Dobbins'es  folks  seemed  to  be  all  waked 
up  on  the  subject  of  religion,  and  they  proposed  we 


248  A  WILD  NIGHT. 


should  turn  it  into  a  kind  of  a  conference  meetin' ;  so 
they  never  went  home  till  after  ten  o'clock. 

It  was  most  eleven  when  Josiah  and  me  got  to  bed 
agin.  And  then  jest  as  I  was  gettin'  into  a  drowse,  I 
heerd  the  cat  in  the  buttery,  and  I  got  up  to  let  her 
out.  And  that  rousted  Josiah  up,  and  he  thought  he 
heerd  the  cattle  in  the  garden,  and  he  got  up  and  went 
out.  And  there  we  was  a  marchin  round  most  all 
night. 

And  if  we  would  get  into  a  nap,  Josiah  would  think 
it  was  mornin',  and  he  would  start  up  and  go  out  to 
look  at  the  clock.  He  seemed  so  afraid  we  would  be 
belated,  and  not  get  to  that  exertion  in  time.  And 
there  we  was  on  our  feet  most  all  night.  I  lost  myself 
once,  for  I  dreampt  that  Josiah  was  a  drowndin',  and 
Deacon  Dobbins  was  on  the  shore  a  prayin'  for  him. 
It  started  me  so,  that  I  jist  ketched  holt  of  Josiah  and 
hollered.  It  skairt  him  awfully,  and  says  he,  "  What 
does  ail  you,  Samantha  ?  I  haint  been  asleep  before, 
to-night,  and  now  you  have  rousted  me  up  for  good. 
I  wonder  what  time  it  is." 

And  then  he  got  out  of  bed  again,  and  went  and 
looked  at  the  clock.  It  was  half  past  one,  and  he 
said  "He  didn't  believe  we  had  better  go  to  sleep 
again,  for  fear  we  would  be  too  late  for  the  exertion, 
and  he  wouldn't  miss  that  for  nothin'." 

"Exertion!"  says  I,  in  a  awful  cold  tone.  "I 
should  think  we  had  had  exertion  enough  for  one 
spell." 


SAMANTHA  S   DKEAM. 


JOSIAH  IN  UNIFORM.  251 

But  as  bad  and  wore  out  as  Josiah  felt  bodily,  he 
was  all  animated  in  his  mind  about  what  a  good  time 
he  was  a  goin'  to  have.  He  acted  foolish,  and  I  told 
him  so.  I  wanted  to  wear  my  brown  and  black  ging- 
ham and  a  shaker,  but  Josiah  insisted  that  I  should 
wear  a  new  lawn  dress  that  he  had  brought  me  home 
as  a  present,  and  I  had  jest  got  made  up.  So,  jest  to 
please  him,  I  put  it  on,  and  my  best  bonnet. 

And  that  man,  all  I  could  do  and  say,  would  put  on 
a  pair  of  pantaloons  I  had  been  a  makin'  for  Thomas 
Jefferson.  They  was  gettin'  up  a  milatary  company 
to  Jonesville,  and  these  pantaloons  was  blue,  with  a 
red  stripe  down  the  sides — a  kind  of  a  uniform. 
Josiah  took  a  awful  fancy  to  'em,  and  says  he : 

"I  will  wear  'em,  Samantha;  they  look  so  dressy." 

Says  I:  "They  hain't  hardly  done.  I  was  goin'  to 
stitch  that  red  stripe  on  the  left  leg  on  again.  They 
hain't  finished  as  they  ort  to  be,  and  I  would  not  wear 
'em.  It  looks  vain  in  you." 

Says  he:  "I  will  wear  'em,  Samantha.  I  will  be 
dressed  up  for  once." 

I  didn't  contend  with  him.  Thinks  I :  we  are  makin' 
fools  of  ourselves  by  goin'  at  all,  and  if  he  wants  to 
make  a  little  bigger  fool  of  himself,  by  wearin'  them 
blue  pantaloons,  I  won't  stand  in  his  light.  And  then 
I  had  got  some  machine  oil  onto  'em,  so  I  felt  that  I 
had  got  to  wash  'em,  anyway,  before  Thomas  J.  took 
'em  to  wear.  So  he  put  'em  on. 

I  had  good  vittles,  and  a  sight  of  'em.    The  basket 
10 


252        HOW  TWENTY  OLD  FOOLS  "SOT  SAIL." 

wouldn't  hold  'em  all,  so  Josiah  had  to  put  a  bottle  of 
red  ross-berry  jell  into  the  pocket  of  his  dress-coat, 
and  lots  of  other  little  things,  such  as  spoons  and 
knives  and  forks,  in  his  pantaloons  and  breast-pockets. 
He  looked  like  Captain  Kidd,  armed  up  to  the  teeth, 
and  I  told  him  so.  But  good  land !  he  would  have 
carried  a  knife  in  his  mouth  if  I  had  asked  him  to,  he 
felt  so  neat  about  goin',  and  boasted  so  on  what  a 
splendid  exertion  it  was  goin'  to  be. 

We  got  to  the  lake  about  eight  o'clock,  for  the  old 
mare  went  slow.  We  was  about  the  first  ones  there, 
but  they  kep'  a  comin',  and  before  ten  o'clock  we  all 
got  there. 

The  young  folks  made  up  their  minds  they  would 
stay  and  eat  their  dinner  in  a  grove  on  the  mainland. 
But  the  majority  of  the  old  folks  thought  it  was  best 
to  go  and  set  our  tables  where  we  laid  out  to  in  the 
first  place.  Josiah  seemed  to  be  the  most  rampant  of 
any  of  the  company  about  goin'.  He  said  he  shouldn't 
eat  a  mouthful  if  he  didn't  eat  it  on  that  island.  He 
said,  what  was  the  use  of  goin'  to  a  pleasure  exertion 
at  all  if  you  didn't  try  to  take  all  the  pleasure  you 
could.  So  about  twenty  old  fools  of  us  sot  sail  for  the 
island. 

I  had  made  up  my  mind  from  the  first  on't  to  face 
trouble,  so  it  didn't  put  me  out  so  much  when  Deacon 
Dobbins,  in  gettin'  into  the  boat,  stepped  onto  my  new 
lawn  dress,  and  tore  a  hole  in  it  as  big  as  my  two 
hands,  and  ripped  it  half  offen  the  waist.  But  Josiah 


FACING    TROUBLE. 


AN  ACCIDENT  ON  THE  LAKE. 


255 


havin'  felt  so  animated  and  tickled  about  the  exertion, 
it  worked  him  up  awfully  when,  jest  after  we  had  got 
well  out  onto  the  lake,  the  wind  took  his  hat  off  and 
blew  it  away  out  onto  the  lake.  He  had  made  up  his 


BOUND  FOR  THE  ISLAND. 


mind  to  look  so  pretty  that  day  that  it  worked  him  up 
awfully.  And  then  the  sun  beat  down  onto  him  ;  and 
if  he  had  had  any  hair  onto  his  head  it  would  have 
seemed  more  shady. 

But  I  did  the  best  I  could  by  him.     I  stood  by  him 
and  pinned  on  his  red  bandanna  handkerchief  onto  his 


256  THE  VOYAGERS  GET  SEA-SICK. 

head.  But  as  I  was  a  fixin'  it  on,  I  see  there  was 
sunthin'  more  than  mortification  ailed  him.  The  lake 
was  rough  and  the  boat  rocked,  and  I  see  he  was 
beginnin'  to  be  awful  sick.  He  looked  deathly.  Pretty 
soon  1  felt  bad,  too.  Oh!  the  wretchedness  of  that 
time.  I  have  enjoyedapoor  health  considerable  in  my 
life,  but  never  did  I  enjoy  so  much  sickness  in  so 
short  a  time  as  I  did  on  that  pleasure  exertion  to  that 
island.  1  s'pose  our  bein'  up  all  night  a'most  made  it 
worse.  When  we  reached  the  island  we  was  both 
weak  as  cats. 

I  sot  right  down  on  a  stun  and  held  my  head  for  a 
spell,  for  it  did  seem  as  if  it  would  split  open.  After  a 
while  I  staggered  up  onto  my  feet,  and  finally  I  got  so 
I  could  walk  straight,  and  sense  things  a  little.  Though 
it  was  tejus  work  to  walk,  anyway,  for  we  had  landed 
on  a  sand-bar,  and  the  sand  was  so  deep  it  was  all  we 
could  do  to  wade  through  it,  and  it  was  as  hot  as  hot 
ashes  ever  was. 

Then  I  began  to  take  the  things  out  of  my  dinner- 
basket.  The  butter  had  all  melted,  so  we  had  to  dip 
it  out  with  a  spoon.  And  a  lot  of  water  had  swashed 
over  the  side  of  the  boat,  so  my  pies  and  tarts  and 
delicate  cake  and  cookies  looked  awful  mixed  up.  But 
no  worse  than  the  rest  of  the  company's  did. 

But  we  did  the  best  we  could,  and  the  chicken  and 
cold  meat  bein'  more  solid  had  held  together  quite 
well,  so  there  was  some  pieces  of  it  considerable  hull, 
though  it  was  all  very  wet  and  soppy.  But  we  sepa- 


THE  ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  BEACH. 


257 


rated  'em  out  as  well  as  we  could,  and  begun  to  make 
preparations  to  eat.  We  didn't  feel  so  animated  about 
eatin'  as  we  should  if  we  hadn't  been  so  sick  to  our 
stomachs.  But  we  felt  as  if  we  must  hurry,  for  the 
man  that  owned  the  boat  said  he  knew  it  would  rain 
before  night,  by  the  way  the  sun  scalded. 

There  wasn't  a  man  or  a  woman  there  but  what  the 
presperation  and 
sweat  jest  poured 
down  their  faces. 
We  was  a  hag- 
gard and  melan- 
choly-lookin'  set. 
There  was  a  piece 
of  woods  a  little 
ways  off,  but  it 
was  up  quite  a 
rise  of  ground, 
and  there  wasn't 
one  of  us  but  what 
had  the  rheuma- 
tiz  more  or  less. 
We  made  up  a  fire  on  the  sand,  though  it  seemed  as  if 
it  was  hot  enough  to  steep  the  tea  and  coffee  as  it  was. 

After  we  got  the  fire  started,  I  histed  a  umberell 
and  sot  down  under  it,  and  fanned  myself  hard,  for  I 
was  afraid  of  a  sunstroke. 

Wall,  I  guess  I  had  set  there  ten  minutes  or  more, 
when  all  of  a  sudden  I  thought,  where  is  Josiah  ?  I 


ON  THE   BEACH. 


258  JOSIAH  IS  MISSING.— THE  SEARCH. 

hadn't  seen  him  since  we  had  got  there.  «I  riz  up  and 
asked  the  company  almost  wildly  if  they  had  seen 
my  companion,  Josiah. 

They  said,  "no,  they  hadn't." 

But  Celestine  Wilkin's  little  girl,  who  had  come 
with  her  grandpa  and  grandma  Gowdy,  spoke  up,  and 
says  she : 

"  I  seen  him  goin'  off  towards  the  woods.  He  acted 
dretful  strange,  too ;  he  seemed  to  be  a  walkin'  off 
sideways." 

"Had  the  sufferin's  he  had  undergone  made  him 
delerious?"  says  I  to  myself;  and  then  I  started  off 
on  the  run  towards  the  woods,  and  old  Miss  Bobbet, 
and  Miss  Gowdy,  and  Sister  Bamber,  and  Deacon 
Dobbins'es  wife  all  rushed  after  me. 

Oh,  the  agony  of  them  two  or  three  minutes  !  my 
mind  so  distracted  with  fourbodin's,  and  the  prespera- 
tion  and  sweat  a  pourin'  down.  But  all  of  a  sudden, 
on  the  edge  of  the  woods,  we  found  him.  Miss  Gowdy 
weighin'  a  little  less  than  me,  mebby  100  pounds  or 
so,  had  got  a  little  ahead  of  me.  He  sot  backed  up 
against  a  tree,  in  a  awful  cramped  position,  with  his 
left  leg  under  him.  He  looked  dretful  uncomfortable. 
But  when  Miss  Gowdy  hollered  out : 

"  Oh,  here  you  be.  We  have  been  skairt  about  you. 
What  is  the  matter?" 

He  smiled  a  dretful  sick  smile,  and  says  he  : 

"  Oh,  I  thought  I  would  come  out  here  and  meditate 
a  spell.  It  was  always  a  real  treat  to  me  to  meditate." 


A  DISCOURAGED   EXCURSIONIST. 


JOSIAH  IS  FOUND  MEDITATIN'.  261 

Just  then  I  come  up  a  pantin'  for  breath,  and  as  the 
wimmen  all  turned  to  face  me,  Josiah  scowled  at  me, 
and  shook  his  fist  at  them  four  wimmen,  and  made  the 
most  mysterious  motions  of  his  hands  towards  'em. 
But  the  minute  they  turned  round  he  smiled  in  a 
sickish  way,  and  pretended  to  go  to  whistlin'. 

Says  I,  "What  is  the  matter,  Josiah  Allen?  What 
are  you  off  here  for  ?" 

"  I  am  a  meditatin',  Samantha." 

Says  I,  "Do  you  come  down  and  jine  the  company 
this  minute,  Josiah  Allen.  You  was  in  a  awful  takin' 
to  come  with  'em,  and  what  will  they  think  to  see  you 
act  so  ?  " 

The  wimmen  happened  to  be  a  lookin'  the  other 
way  for  a  minute,  and  he  looked  at  me  as  if  he  would 
take  my  head  off,  and  made  the  strangest  motions 
towards  'em ;  but  the  minute  they  looked  at  him  he 
would  pretend  to  smile,  that  deathly  smile. 

Says  I,  "  Come,  Josiah  Allen,  we're  goin'  to  get 
dinner  right  away,  for  we  are  afraid  it  will  rain." 

"Oh,  wall,"  says  he,  "a  little  rain,  more  or  less, 
hain't  a  goin'  to  hender  a  man  from  meditatin'." 

I  was  wore  out,  and  says  I,  "  Do  you  stop  meditatin' 
this  minute,  Josiah  Allen ! " 

Says  he,  "  I  won't  stop,  Samantha.  I  let  you  have 
your  way  a  good  deal  of  the  time  ;  but  when  I  take  it 
into  my  head  to  meditate,  you  hain't  a  goin'  to  break 
it  up." 

Jest  at  that  minute  they  called  to  me  from  the 


TROUBLE  WITH  WASPS. 


shore  to  come  that  minute  to  find  some  of  my  dishes. 
And  we  had  to  start  off.  But  oil !  the  gloom  of  my 
mind  that  was  added  to  the  lameness  of  my  body. 
Them  strange  motions  and  looks  of  Josiah  wore  on 
me.  Had  the  sufferin's  of  the  night,  added  to  the 
trials  of  the  day,  made  him  crazy  ?  I  thought  more'n 
as  likely  as  not  I  had  got  a  luny  on  my  hands  for  the 
rest  of  my  days. 

And  then,  oh  how  the  sun  did  scald  down  onto  me, 
and  the  wind  took  the  smoke  so  into  my  face  that 
there  wasn't  hardly  a  dry  eye  in  my  head.  And  then 
a  perfect  swarm  of  yellow  wasps  lit  down  onto  our 
vittles  as  quick  as  we  laid  'em  down,  so  you  couldn't 
touch  a  thing  without  runnin'  a  chance  to  be  stung. 
Oh,  the  agony  of  that  time  !  the  distress  of  that  pleas- 
ure exertion !  But  I  kep'  to  work,  and  when  we  had 
got  dinner  most  ready,  I  went  back  to  call  Josiah  again. 
Old  Miss  Bobbet  said  she  would  go  with  me,  for  she 
thought  she  see  a  wild  turnip  in  the  woods  there,  and 
her  Shakespeare  had  a  awful  cold,  and  she  would  try 
to  dig  one  to  give  him.  So  we  started  up  the  hill 
again.  He  set  in  the  same  position,  all  huddled  up, 
with  his  leg  under  him,  as  uncomfortable  a  lookin' 
creeter  as  I  ever  see.  But  when  we  both  stood  in 
front  of  him,  he  pretended  to  look  careless  and  happy, 
and  smiled  that  sick  smile. 

Says  I,  "  Come,  Josiah  Allen,  dinner  is  ready." 
"  Oh !  I  hain't  hungry,"  says  he.     "  The  table  will 
probable  be  full.     I  had  jest  as  lieves  wait." 


WILD  TURNIPS  AND  MUSKEETERS.  263 

"  Table  full ! "  says  I.  "  You  know  jest  as  well  as  I 
do  that  we  are  eatin'  on  the  ground.  Do  you  come 
and  eat  your  dinner  this  minute." 

"  Yes,  do  come,"  says  Miss  Bobbet,  "  we  can't  get 
along  without  you." 

"Oh!"  says  he,  with  that  ghastly  smile,  a  pretendin' 
to  joke,  "I  have  got  plenty  to  eat  here — I  can  eat 
muskeeters." 

The  air  was  black  with  'em,  I  couldn't  deny  it. 

"  The  muskeeters  will  eat  you,  more  likely,"  says  I. 
"  Look  at  your  face  and  hands ;  they  are  all  covered 
with  'em." 

"  Yes,  they  have  eat  considerable  of  a  dinner  out  of 
me,  but  I  don't  begrech  'em.  I  hain't  small  enough, 
nor  mean  enough,  I  hope,  to  begrech  'em  one  good 
meal." 

Miss  Bobbet  started  off  in  search  of  her  wild  turnip, 
and  after  she  had  got  out  of  sight  Josiah  whispered  to 
me  with  a  savage  look,  and  a  tone  sharp  as  a  sharp 
axe: 

"Can't  you  bring  forty  or  fifty  more  wimmen  up 
here  ?  You  couldn't  come  here  a  minute,  could  you, 
without  a  lot  of  other  wimmen  tight  to  your  heels?" 

I  begun  to  see  daylight,  and  after  Miss  Bobbet  had 
got  her  wild  turnip  and  some  spignut,  I  made  some 
excuse  to  send  her  on  ahead,  and  then  Josiah  told  me 
all  about  why  he  had  gone  off  by  himself  alone,  and 
why  he  had  been  a  settin'  in  such  a  curious  a  position 

all  the  time  since  we  had  come  in  sight  of  him. 
10* 


264 


UNDERGOING  REPAIRS. 


It  seems  he  had  sot  down  on  that  bottle  of  rass- 
berry  jell.     That  red  stripe  on  the  side  wasn't  hardly 

finished,  as  I  said, 
and  I  hadn't  fas- 
tened my  thread 
properly,  so  when 
he  got  to  pullin'  at 
'em  to  try  to  wipe 
off  the  jell,  the 
thread  started,  and 
bein'  sewed  on  a 
machine, that  seam 


A   DESPERATE    SITUATION. 


jest  ripped  right  open  from  top  to  bottom.  That  was 
what  he  had  walked  off  sideways  towards  the  woods 
for.  But  Josiah  Allen's  wife  hain't  one  to  desert  a 


WHY  JOSLV11  WORE  A  SHAWL.  265 

companion  in  distress.  I  pinned  'em  up  as  well  as  I 
could,  and  I  didn't  say  a  word  to  hurt  his  feelin's,  only 
1  jest  said  this  to  him,  as  I  was  a  fixin'  em :  I  fastened 
my  grey  eye  firmly  and  almost  sternly  onto  him,  and 
says  I : 

"Josiah  Allen,  is  this  pleasure?"  Says  I,  "You 
was  determined  to  come." 

"Throw  that  in  my  face  agin,  will  you?  What  if 
I  was  ?  There  goes  a  pin  into  my  leg !  I  should  think 
I  had  suffered  enough  without  your  stabbin'  of  me  with 
pins." 

"  Wall  then,  stand  still,  and  not  be  a  caperin'  round 
so.  How  do  you  s'pose  I  can  do  anything  with  you  a 
tousin'  round  so?" 

"Wall,  don't  be  so  aggravatin'  then." 

I  fixed  'em  as  well  as  I  could,  but  they  looked  pretty 
bad,  and  there  they  was  all  covered  with  jell,  too. 
What  to  do  I  didn't  know.  But  finally  I  told  him  I 
would  put  my  shawl  onto  him.  So  I  doubled  it  up 
corner-ways  as  big  as  I  could,  so  it  almost  touched  the 
ground  behind,  and  he  walked  back  to  the  table  with 
me.  I  told  him  it  was  best  to  tell  the  company  all 
about  it,  but  he  jest  put  his  foot  down  that  he  wouldn't, 
and  I  told  him  if  he  wouldn't  that  he  must  make  his 
own  excuses  to  the  company  about  wearin'  the  shawl. 
So  he  told  'em  he  always  loved  to  wear  summer  shawls ; 
he  thought  it  made  a  man  look  so  dressy. 

But  he  looked  as  if  he  would  sink  all  the  time  he 
was  a  sayin'  it.  They  all  looked  dretful  curious  at 


RAIN  AND  RHEUMATIZ. 


him,  and  he  looked  as  meachin'  as  if  he  had  stole 
sheep — and  meachin'er — and  he  never  took  a  minute's 
comfort,  nor  I  nuther.  He  was  sick  all  the  way  back 
to  the  shore,  and  so  was  I.  And  jest  as  we  got  into 
our  wagons  and  started  for  home,  the  rain  began  to 
pour  down.  The  wind  turned  our  old  umberell  inside 
out  in  no  time.  My  lawn  dress  was  most  spilte  before, 
and  now  I  give  up  my  bonnet.  And  I  says  to  Josiah : 

"This  bonnet  and  dress  are  spilte,  Josiah  Allen, 
and  I  shall  have  to  buy  some  new  ones." 

"  Wall !  wall!  who  said  you  wouldn't?"  he  snapped 
out. 

But  it  wore  on  him.  Oh!  how  the  rain  poured 
down.  Josiah  havin'  nothin'  but  a  handkerchief  on 
his  head  felt  it  more  than  I  did.  I  had  took  a  apron 
to  put  on  a  getlin'  dinner,  and  I  tried  to  make  him 
let  me  pin  it  on  his  head.  But  says  he,  firmly : 

"  I  hain't  proud  and  haughty,  Samantha,  but  I  do 
feel  above  ridin'  out  with  a  pink  apron  on  for  a  hat." 

"Wall  then,"  says  I,  "get  as  wet  as  sop  if  you  had 
ruther." 

I  didn't  say  no  more,  but  there  we  jest  sot  and  suf- 
fered. The  rain  poured  down ;  the  wind  howled  at  us ; 
the  old  mare  went  slow;  the  rheumatiz  laid  holt  of 
both  of  us ;  and  the  thought  of  the  new  bonnet  and 
dress  was  a  wearin'  on  Josiah,  I  knew. 

There  wasn't  a  house  for  the  first  seven  miles,  and 
after  we  got  there  1  thought  we  wouldn't  go  in,  for  we 
had  got  to  get  home  to  milk,  anyway,  and  we  was  both 


iOMEWARD   BOUND. 


"IS  THIS  PLEASURE,  JOSIAH  ALLEN?"        269 


as  wet  as  we  could  be.  After  I  had  beset  him  about 
the  apron  we  didn't  say  hardly  a  word  for  as  much  as 
thirteen  miles  or  so;  but  I  did  speak  once,  as  he  leaned 
forward,  with  the  rain  drippin'  off  en  his  bandanna 
handkerchief  onto  his  blue  pantaloons.  I  says  to 
him  in  stern  tones: 

"  Is  this  pleasure,  Josiah  Allen  ?  " 

He  give  the  old  mare  a  awful  cut,  and  says  he: 
"  I'd  like  to  know 
what  you  want  to 
be  so  agrevatin* 
for." 

I  didn't  multi- 
ply any  more 
words  with  him, 
only  as  we  drove 
up  to  our  door- 
step,  and  he 
helped  me  out 
into  a  mud -pud- 
dle, I  says  to 
him: 

"Mebby  you'll 
hear  to  me  another  time,  Josiah  Allen." 

And  I'll  bet  he  will.  I  hain't  afraid  to  bet  a  ten 
cent  bill  that  that  man  won't  never  open  his  mouth  to 
me  again  about  a  pleasure  exertion. 


THE  END  OF  THE  EXERTION. 


A  VISIT  TO  THE  CHILDREN. 

Ewas  a  fair  and  lovely  forenoon,  and  I  thought 
ye  would  go  and  spend  the  day  with  the  childern. 
Kitty  Smith  had  gone  the  day  before  to  visit  a  aunt 
on  her  mother's  side  to  Log  London.  She  was  a 
layin'  out  to  stay  3  or  4  weeks,  and  I  declare,  it 
seemed  lonesome  as  a  dog — and  lonesomer.  And  I 
told  Josiah  that  I  guessed  we  would  go  to  Jonesville 
and  visit  the  childern,  for  we  hadn't  been  there  to 
stay  all  day  with  'em  for  a  number  of  weeks.  He 
sort  o'  hung  back,  and  said  he  didn't  know  how  to 
spend  the  time.  But  I  only  says,  decided  like  and 
firm,  and  in  a  solemn  and  warnin'  way : 

"  You  can  do  as  you  are  a  mind  to,  Josiah  Allen, 
and  as  your  conscience  will  let  you.  But  croup  is 
round,  that  I  know,  and  I  worried  last  night  a  good 
deal  about  little  Samantha  Joe." 

Says  he :  "I  will  hitch  up  the  old  mare  this  minute, 
Samantha,  and  do  you  throw  your  things  on  as  quick 
as  you  can."  And  he  started  for  the  barn  almost  on 

the  run. 

(2TO) 


CROUP  IS  ROUND." 


271 


My  natural  nature  is  very  truthful  and  transparent, 
— almost  like  rain-water, — and  little  figurative  expres- 
sions like  these  are  painful  to  me — very.  But  every 
woman  who  has  a  man  to  deal  with  for  above  twenty 


MOVING  JOSIAH. 

years  will  know  that  they  have  to  use  'em  in  order  to 
move  men  as  men  ort  to  be  moved. 

I  won't  come  right  out  and  lie  for  nobody — man  or 
beast.  Croup  was  round  promiscus  in  Jones ville,  and 
I  had  worried  about  little  Samantha  Joe.  But  my 
conscience  told  me,  as  I  tied  up  my  back  hair,  and 


272  THE  HEARSE  DRIVES  UP. 

hooked  up  my  dress,  that  I  had  talked  in  a  sort  of  a 
parable  way.  And  it  smote  me  ;  not  so  hard  as  it  had 
smote ;  but  hardish. 

And  if  there  ever  was  a  old  tyrant  on  the  face  of 
the  earth,  my  conscience  is  one.  It  won't  let  me  do 
nothin'  the  least  mite  out  of  the  way  without  poundin' 
me  almost  to  death.  Sometimes  I  get  fairly  tuckered 
out  with  it. 

Wall,  I  had  jest  finished  hookin'  up  my  dress,  and 
was  a  pinnin'  on  my  collar  at  the  lookin'-glass,  when, 
happenin'  to  throw  one  of  the  eyes  of  my  spectacles 
out  of  the  window,  I  see  Kellup  Cobb  a  drivin'  up; 
and  he  hitched  the  hearse  to  the  front  gate,  and  come 
in. 

He  looked  quite  well  for  him.  His  hair  and  whiskers 
was  a  good,  dark,  tan  color,  bearin'  a  little  on  the 
orange.  Quite  a  becoinin'  color  to  him,  he  bein'  so 
sailer. 

He  inquired  where  Kitty  was.  And  then  he  wanted 
to  know  most  the  first  thing  he  said,  and  his  mean 
looked  anxious  as  he  said  it,  "If  her  health  was  a 
keepin'  up  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,"  says  I,  "  why  shouldn't  it  ?" 

"  Wall,"  says  he,  "  I  was  obleeged  to  go  away  on 
business,  and  couldn't  get  here  last  week,  and  I  didn't 
know  how  she  would  take  it.  I  should  have  wrote  to 
her,"  says  he,  "  but  not  havin'  quite  made  up  my  mind 
whether  I  would  marry  her  or  not,  I  thought  it  would 
be  cruel  to  her  to  pay  her  such  a  close  attention  as  a 


KELLUP'S  MIND  MADE  UP.  £73 

letter  would  be.  It  wuzn't  the  postage  that  I  minded. 
Three  cents  wouldn't  have  stood  in  the  way  of  my 
writin'  to  her,  if  I  had  made  up  my  mind  full  and 
complete. 

"  But,"  says  he,  a  knittin'  up  his  forward  hard, 
"  them  two  old  reasons  that  did  stand  in  the  way  of 
my  marryin'  stands  there  now — stands  there  a  headin' 
of  me  off.  It  hain't  so  much  because  she  is  a  poor 
girl  that  I  hesitate.  No,  that  wouldn't  influence  me 
much,  for  she  is  sound  and  healthy,  good  to  work,  and 
would  pay  her  way.  No,  it  is  them  wimmen  !  What 
will  be  done  with  the  rest  of  the  wimmen  that  I  shall 
have  to  disapinte  ? 

"But,"  says  he,'lookin'  gloomy  into  the  oven,  "I 
have  jest  about  made  up  my  mind  that  I  will  marry 
her,  whether  or  no,  and  leave  the  event  to  Providence. 
If  I  do,  they'll  have  to  stand  it  somehow.  They  hadn't 
ort  to  expect,  and  if  they  used  a  mite  of  reason  they 
wouldn't  expect,  that  a  man  would  sacrifice  himself 
always,  and  keep  single  forever,  ruther  than  hurt  their 
feelin's." 

Says  he,  lookin'  as  bitter  and  gloomy  into  that  oven 
as  a  oven  was  ever  looked  into,  "  Even  if  ten  or  a 
dozen  of  'em  die  off,  the  law  can't  touch  me  for  it,  for 
if  ever  a  man  has  been  careful,  I  have  been.  Look  at 
my  clothes,  now,"  says  he,  lookin'  down  on  himself 
with  a  sort  of  a  self-righteous,  admirin'  sort  of  a 
look,  "  I  wore  these  old  clothes  to-day  jest  out  of  solid 
principle  and  goodness  towards  wimmen.  It  wuzn't 


274 


A  DAY  OF  SETTLEMENT. 


to  be  savin',  and  because  it  looked  like  rain.  No,  I 
knew  I  had  got  to  be  round  amongst  wimmen  a  good 
deal,  to-day,  a  settlin'  up  accounts,  and  so  I  wore  this 
old  overcoat  of  father's. 
I  have  got  a  brand  new 
one,  but  I  wouldn't  wear 
it  round  amongst  'em. 


DRESSED  FOR  THE  OCCASION. 


"  I  am  on  my  guard,  and  they  can't  come  back  on 
me  for  damages.  They  have  only  got  themselves  to 
blame  if  they  are  ondone.  They  might  have  realized 


A  MEETIN'  HOUSE  STORM.  275 


that  they  couldn't  all  have  got  me.  And  I  have  jest 
about  made  up  my  mind  that  I  will  run  the  resk  and 
marry  her.  She  is  to  Log  London,  you  say.  It  hap- 
pens jest  right,"  says  he,  a  brightenin'  up. 

"  There  is  a  funeral  down  that  way,  to-morrow,  not 
more  than  thirteen  or  fourteen  miles  from  there,  and  I 
will  go  round  that  way  on  my  way  back,  and  call  and 
see  her." 

I  declare  his  talk  sickened  me  so  that -I  was  fairly 
sick  to  my  stomach.  It  was  worse  than  thoroughwort 
or  lobelia,  and  so  I  told  Josiah  afterwards.  But  I 
didn't  say  a  word  back  to  him,  for  I  knew  I  might  jest 
as  well  try  to  convince  the  wind  right  in  a  whirlwind 
that  it  hadn't  better  blow,  as  to  convince  him  that  he 
was  a  fool. 

But,  as  he  got  up  to  go,  I  told  him  that  I  had  a  little 
mite  of  business  of  my  own  with  him.  You  see  our 
new  minister,  Elder  Bamber,  is  a  likely  feller  as  ever 
drawed  the  breath  of  life,  and  hard-workin' — couldn't 
get  a  cent  of  his  pay  from  the  meetin'-house.  They 
had  got  into  a  kind  of  a  quarrel,  the  men  had,  and 
wouldn't  pay  what  they  had  signed.  And  I  proposed 
to  the  women,  the  female  sisters,  that  we  should  try  to 
get  him  up  a  present  of  50  dollars  to  last  'em  through 
the  storm — the  meetin'-house  storm.  For  they  was 
fairly  sufferin'  for  provisions,  and  clothes,  and  stuff. 
And  as  Kellup  was  a  member  of  the  same  meetin'- 
house,  and  talked  and  sung  powerful  in  conference 
meetin's,  I  thought  it  wouldn't  be  no  more  than  right 


276  SILVER  AND  GOLD. 

for  me  to  tackle  him,  and  get  him  to  pay  a  little  sun- 
thin'  towards  it.  So  I  tackled  him. 

"  Wall,  Sister  Allen,"  says  he,  in  that  hypocritical, 
sneakin'  way  of  hisen  (he  was  always  powerful  at 
repeatin'  Scriptural  texts),  "I  can  say  with  Peter, 
'  Silver  and  gold  have  I  none,  but  such  as  I  have  I  will 
give  unto  thee.' " 

"  Wall,  what  is  it  ?  "  says  I.  "  What  are  you  goin' 
to  give  ? " 

Says  he,  "  I  will  work  for  the  cause.  If  religion  is 
worth  anything,"  says  he,  a  rollin'  up  the  whites  of 
his  eyes,  "  it  is  worth  workin'  for — it  is  worth  makiu' 
sacrifices  for." 

"  So  1  think,"  says  I,  in  a  very  dry  tone.  "  And  1 
want  a  half  a  dollar  out  of  you." 

"No!"  says  he,  kinder  puttin'  his  hand  over  his 
pocket,  as  if  he  was  afraid  a  cent  would  drop  out  of  it. 
"  No !  I  will  do  better  than  that.  To-night  is  our  con- 
ference meetin',  and  I  will  talk  powerful  on  the  sub- 
ject." 

Says  I,  coldly :  "  Wind  is  a  powerful  element,  but  it 
hain't  a  goin'  to  blow  comfort  into  the  Elder's  household, 
nor  meat  and  flour  into  his  empty  buttery-shelves,  nor 
fire- wood  into  his  wood-box.  Song  and  oritery  are  good 
in  their  place,  but  they  hain't  goin'  to  feed  the  starvin' 
or  clothe  the  naked."  Says  I,  in  more  reasonable 
tones :  "As  I  said,  wind  is  good  in  its  place — I  hain't 
a  word  to  say  aginst  it — but  jest  at  the  present  time 
money  is  goin'  to  do  the  Elder  more  good  than  the 


SUCH  RICH  FOOD.  277 

same  amount  of  wind  can."  And  says  I,  in  the  same 
firm  but  mild  tone :  "  I  want  a  half  a  dollar  out  of 
you."  Says  I:  "The  Elder  is  fairly  sufferin'  for 
things  to  eat  and  drink  and  wear.  And  you  know," 
says  I,  "  that  if  ever  there  was  a  good,  earnest,  Chris- 
tian man,  it  is  Elder  Bamber.  He  is  a  Christian  from 
the  top  of  his  head  to  the  sole  of  his  boots.  He  don't 
wear  his  religion  on  the  top  of  his  head  for  a  hat,  and 
take  it  off  Sunday  nights.  It  goes  clear  through  him, 
and  works  out  from  the  inside." 

"Yes,"  says  Kellup,  a  clutchin'  his  pocket  with  a 
firmer  grip,  "  he  is  a  worthy  man,  and  I  should  think 
the  thought  of  his  noble  and  lofty  mission  would  be 
meat  and  drink  to  him.  It  probable  is.  It  would  be 
to  me — and  clothin'.  Oh!"  says  he,  a  rollin'  up  his 
eyes  still  further  in  his  head,  "oh!  the  thought  of 
savin'  souls ;  what  a  comfort  that  must  be  to  the  Elder ; 
what  a  rich  food  for  him." 

Says  I,  in  colder  tones  than  I  had  used  yet,  for  I 
was  fairly  wore  out  with  him :  "  The  Elder  can't  eat 
souls,  and  if  he  could  he  would  starve  to  death  on  such 
souls  as  your'n,  if  he  eat  one  every  five  minutes." 

He  didn't  say  nothin'  more,  but  onhitched  his  hearse 
and  started  off.  I  don't  know  but  he  was  mad,  and 
don't  care.  But  though  I  didn't  get  a  cent  from  him 
or  his  father,  I  raised  50  dollars  with  my  own  hands 
and  the  might  of  my  shoulder-blades,  and  sent  it  to  him 
in  a  letter  marked,  "  From  friends  of  religion  and  the 
Elder." 


278  ON  THE  ROAD. 


Wall,  jest  as  Josiah  driv  up  with  the  old  mare,  a 
hull  load  of  company  driv  up  from  the  other  way — 
come  to  spend  the  day.  I  was  disappinted,  but  I 
didn't  murmur.  I  took  'em  as  a  dispensation,  killed  a 
fat  duck,  and  made  considerable  of  a  fuss;  done  well 
by  'em.  They  come  from  a  distance,  and  had  to  start 
for  home  the  sun  2  hours  high.  And  J  told  Josiah  it 
was  so  pleasant  I  guessed  we  would  go  to  Jonesville 
then,  and  he  (havin'  that  babe  on  his  mind)  consented 
to  at  once  and  immediately.  So  we  sot  off.  About 
half  a  mile  this  side  of  Jonesville  we  met  Thomas  J. 
and  Maggie  jest  a  settin'  off  for  a  ride.  "We  stopped  our 
2  teams  and  visited  a  spell  back  and  forth.  I  wouldn't 
let  'em  go  back  home,  as  they  both  offered  and  in- 
sisted on,  but  made  an  appintment  to  take  dinner 
with  'em  the  next  day,  Providence  and  the  weather 
permittin'.  And  then  we  drove  on  to  Whitfield's. 
And  I  don't  never  want  to  see  a  prettier  sight  than  I 
see  as  we  driv  up. 

There  Tirzah  Ann  sot  out  on  the  portico,  all  dressed 
up  in  a  cool  mull  dress.  It  was  one  I  had  bought  her 
before  she  was  married,  but  it  was  washed  and  done 
up  clean  and  fresh,  and  looked  as  good  as  new.  It 
was  pure  white,  with  little  bunches  of  blue  forget-me- 
nots  on  it,  and  she  had  a  bunch  of  the  same  posys  and 
some  pink  rose-buds  in  her  hair,  and  on  the  bosom  of 
her  frock.  There  is  a  hull  bed  of  'em  in  the  yard. 
She  is  a  master  hand  for  dressin'  up  and  lookin'  pretty, 
but  at  the  same  time  is  very  equinomical,  and  a  first- 


A   ROADSIDE    VISIT. 


REAL  HAPPINESS.  281 

rate  housekeeper.     She  looked  the  very  picture  of 
health  and  enjoyment — plump  and  rosy,  and  happy  as 


a  queen;  and  she  was  a 
queen.  Queen  of  her  hus- 
band's heart;  and  settin' 

A  HAPPY  HOME. 

up  on  that  pure  and  lofty 

throne  of  constant  and  deathless  love,  she  looked  first- 
rate,  and  felt  so. 

It  had  been  a  very  warm  day,  nearly  hot,  and  Whit- 
field  I  s'pose  had  come  home  kinder  tired.  So  he  had 
stretched  himself  out  at  full  length  on  the  grass  in 
front  of  the  portico,  and  there  he  lay  with  his  hands 


282 


OUR  GRANDCHILD. 


under  his  head,  a  laughin',  and  a  lookin'  up  into  Tir- 
zah  Ann's  face  as  radiant  and  lovin'  as  if  she  was  the 
sun  and  he  a  sun-flower.  But  that  simely,  though 
very  poetical  and  figurative,  don't  half  express  the 
good  looks,  and  health,  and  rest,  and  happiness  on  both 

their  faces,  as  they 
looked  at  each 
other,  and  then  at 
that  babe. 

That  most  beau- 
tifulest  and  intel- 
ligentest  of  chil- 
dern  was  a  tod- 
dlin'  round,  first 
up  to  one  of  'em 
and  then  the  other, 
with  her  bright 
eyes  a  dancin',  and 
her  cheeks  red  as 
roses.  You  see 
their  yard  is  so 
large  and  shady, 
and  the  little  thing 

havin'  got  so  it  can  run  round  alone,  is  out  in  the  yard 
a  playin'  most  all  the  time,  and  it  is  dretful  good  for  her. 
And  she  enjoys  it  the  best  that  ever  was,  and  Tirzah  Ann 
enjoys  it,  too,  for  after  she  gets  her  work  done  up,  all  she 
has  to  do  is  to  set  in  the  door  and  watch  the  little 
thing  a  playin'  round,  and  bein'  perfectly  happy.  The 


LITTLE  SAMANTHA  JOE. 


"AS  THE  POET  SAYS."  283 

minute  she  ketched  sight  of  the  old  mare  and  me  and 
her  grandpa,  she  run  down  to  the  gate  as  fast  as  her 
little  feet  could  carry  her.  She  had  a  little  pink  dress 
on,  and  pink  stockin's,  and  white  shoes,  and  a  white 
ruffled  apron,  with  her  pretty,  shining  hair  a  hangin' 
down  in  curls  over  it,  and  she  did,  jest  as  sure  as  I 
live  and  breathe — she  did  look  almost  too  beautiful 
for  earth.  I  guess  she  got  a  pretty  good  kissin'  from 
Josiah  and  me,  and  then  Whitfield  and  Tirzah  Ann 
come  a  hurryin'  down  to  the  gate,  glad  enough  to  see 
us,  as  they  always  be. 

Josiah,  of  course,  had  to  take  that  beautiful  child 
for  a  little  ride,  and  Whitfield  said  he  guessed  he 
would  go,  too.  But  I  got  out  and  went  in,  and  as  we 
sot  there  on  the  stoop,  Tirzah  Ann  up  and  told  me 
what  she  and  Whitfield  was  a  goin'  to  do.  They  was 
goin'  off  for  the  summer  for  a  rest  and  change.  And 
I  thought  from  the  first  minute  she  spoke  of  it  that  it 
was  foolish  in  her.  Now  rests  are  as  likely  things  as 
ever  was  ;  so  are  changes. 

But  I  have  said,  and  I  say  still,  that  I  had  ruther  lay 
down  to  home,  as  the  poet  says,  "  on  my  own  delight- 
ful feather-bed,"  with  a  fan  and  a  newspaper,  and  take 
a  rest,  than  dress  up  and  travel  off  2  or  300  milds 
through  the  burnin'  sun,  with  achin'  body,  wet  with 
presperation  and  sweat,  to  take  it.  It  seems  to  me 
that  I  would  get  more  rest  out  of  the  former  than  out 
of  the  more  latter  course  and  proceedin'.  Howsum- 

ever,  everybody  to  their  own  mind. 
11 


281  STEAM-CARS  AND  MILK-WAGONS. 

Likewise  with  changes :  I  have  said,  and  I  say  still, 
that  changes  are  likely  and  respectable,  if  you  can  get 
holt  of  'em  ;  but  how  can  you  ? 

Havin'  such  powerful  and  eloquent  emotions  as  I 
have,  havin'  such  hefty  principles  a  performin'  inside 
of  my  mind,  enjoyin'  such  idees,  and  faiths,  and  aspira- 
tions, and  longin's,  and  hopes,  and  despairs,  and  every- 
thing— I  s'pose  that  is  what  makes  me  think  that  what 
is  goin'  on  round  me,  the  outside  of  me,  hain't  of  so 
much  consequence.  I  seem  to  live  inside  of  myself 
(as  it  were)  more  than  I  do  on  the  outside.  And  so  it 
don't  seem  of  so  much  consequence  what  the  lay  of 
the  land  round  me  may  happen  to  be,  whether  it  is 
sort  o'  hilly  and  mountainous  or  more  level-like;  or 
whether  steam-cars  may  be  a  goin'  by  me  (on  the  out- 
side of  me),  or  boats  a  sailin'  round  me,  or  milk- 
wagons. 

You  see  the  real  change,  the  real  rest,  would  have 
to  be  on  the  inside,  and  not  on  the  outside.  Nobody, 
no  matter  how  much  their  weight  may  be  by  the  steel- 
yards, can  carry  round  such  grand,  hefty  principles  as 
I  carry  round  without  gettin'  tired  ;  or  enjoy  the  lofty 
hopes,  and  desires,  and  aspirations  that  I  enjoy,  and 
meditate  on  all  the  sad,  and  mysterious,  and  puzzlin' 
conundrums  of  the  old  world  as  I  meditate  on  'em, 
without  gettin'  fairly  tuckered  out. 

Great  hearts  enjoy  greatly  and  suffer  greatly.  And 
so  sometimes,  when  heart-tired  and  brain-weary,  if  I 
could  quell  down  them  soarin'  emotions  and  make  'em 


UNCHANGING  EMOTIONS.  285 

lay  still  for  a  spell,  and  shet  up  my  heart  like  a  buro- 
draw,  and  hang  up  the  key,  and  onscrew  my  head  and 
lay  it  onto  the  manteltry-piece,  then  I  could  go  off  and 
enjoy  a  change  that  would  be  refreshin'  and  truly 
delightful.  But  as  it  is,  from  Jonesville  clear  to  the 
Antipithies,  the  puzzlin'  perplexities,  the  woes,  and  the 
cares  of  the  old  world  foller  right  on  after  us  tight  as 
our  shadders.  Our  pure  and  soarin'  desires,  our  blind 
mistakes,  and  deep  despairs ;  our  longin's,  strivin's, 
memories,  heartaches ;  all  the  joys  and  burdens  of  a 
soul,  has  to  be  carried  by  us  up  the  steepest  mountains 
or  down  into  the  lowest  vallies.  The  same  emotions 
that  was  a  performin'  inside  of  our  minds  down  in  the 
Yo  Semity,  will  be  a  performin'  jest  the  same  up  on 
the  Pyramids. 

The  same  questionin'  eyes,  sort  o'  glad  and  sort  o' 
sorrowful,  that  looked  out  over  New  York  Harbor  will 
look  out  over  the  Bay  of  Naples — and  then  beyond 
'em  both,  out  into  a  deeper,  more  mysterious  ocean, 
the  boundless  sea  that  lays  beyond  everything,  and 
before  everything,  and  round  everything,  that  great, 
misty  sea  of  the  Unknown,  the  Hereafter;  tryin'  to  see 
what  we  hain't  never  seen,  and  wonderin'  when  we 
shall  see  it,  and  how  ?  and  where  ?  and  wherefore  ? 
and  if  things  be  so  ?  and  why  ? 

Tryin'  to  hear  the  murmur  of  them  waves  that  we 
know  are  a  washin'  up  round  us  on  every  side,  that 
nobody  hain't  never  heard,  but  we  know  are  there ;  the 
mighty  Past,  the  mysterious  Future.  Tryin'  to  ketch 


EVERY  ONE  FOR  HIMSELF. 


a  glimpse  of  them  shadowy  sails  that  are  floatin'  in 
and  out  forever  more,  with  a  freight  of  immortal  souls, 
bearin'  them  here,  and  away.  We  know  we  have 
sailed  on  'em  once,  and  have  got  to  again — and  can't 
ketch  no  glimpse  on  'em — can't  know  nothin'  about 
'em — sealed  baby  lips,  silent,  dead  lips,  never  tellin' 
nothin'  about  'em.  Each 
soul  has  got  to  embark 
and  sail  out  alone,  out 
into  the  silence  and  the 
shadows — sail  out  into  the 
mysterious  Beyond. 

We  can't  get  away  from 
ourselves,  and  get  a  real 
change,  nohow,  unless  we 
knock  our  heads  in  and 
make  idiots  and  lunys  of 
ourselves.  Movin'  our 
bodies  round  here  and 
there  is  only  a  shadow  of 
a  change,  a  mockery,  as 
if  I  should  dress  up  my 
Josiah  in  soldier  coats  or 
baby  clothes.  There  he 
is  inside  of  'em,  clear  Josiah,  no  change  in  him,  only  a 
little  difference  in  his  outside  circumstances. 

Standin'  as  we  do  on  a  narrow  belt  of  land,  which  is 
the  Present,  and  them  endless  seas  a  beatin'  round  us 
on  every  side  of  us,  bottomless,  shoreless,  ageless — and 


JOSIAH  STILL. 


WHAT  THE  GENTEEL  ONES  DO.  287 

we  a  not  seein'  either  on  'em ;  under  them  awful,  and 
lofty,  and  curious  circumstances,  what  difference  does 
it  really  make  to  us  whether  we  are  a  layin'  down  or  a 
standin'  up — whether  we  are  on  a  hill,  or  down  in  a 
valley — whether  a  lot  on  us  get  together  in  cities  and 
villages,  like  aunts  on  a  aunt-hill ;  or  whether  we  are 
more  alone,  like  storks  or  ostridges  ? 

This  is  a  very  deep  and  curious  subject.  I  have 
talked  eloquent  on  it,  I  know,  and  my  readers  know. 
But  I  could  go  on  and  filosifize  on  it  jest  as  powerful 
and  deep  for  hours  and  hours.  But  I  have  already 
episoded  too  far,  and  to  resoom  and  continue  on.  I 
told  Tirzah  Ann  that  I  thought  it  was  foolish  in  her. 

And  she  said,  "  It  was  very  genteel  to  go  away  from 
home  for  the  summer."  She  said,  "  Miss  Skidmore 
was  goin'."  She  is  the  other  lawyer's  wife  to  Jones- 
ville,  and  Tirzah  Ann  said  she  was  bound  to  not  come 
in  behind  her.  She  said,  "  Miss  Skidmore  said  that 
nobody  who  made  any  pretensions  to  bein'  genteel 
stayed  to  "home  durin'  the  heated  term." 

"  What  do  they  go  away  for,  mostly?"  says  I,  in  a 
cool  tone,  for  I  didn't  over  and  above  like  the  plan. 

"  Oh !  for  health  and—" 

"  But,"  says  I,  "  hain't  you  and  Whitfield  enjoyin' 
good  health?" 

"  Never  could  be  better  health  than  we  both  have 
got,"  sayg  she;  "but  folks  go  for  health  and  pleas- 
ure." 


288  A  LITTLE  AT  A  TIME. 

u  Hain't  you  a  takin'  comfort  now,"  says  I,  "  solid 
comfort?" 

"Yes,"  says  she,  "nobody  can  be  happier  than 
Whitfield  and  I  are  every  day  of  our  lives." 

"  Wall,"  says  I  coolly, "  then  you  had  better  let  well 
enough  alone." 

"But,"  says  she,  "folks  go  for  a  rest." 

"Rest  from  what?"  says  I.  "It  seems  to  me  that 
I  never  in  my  hull  life  see  nobody  look  more  rested 
than  you  and  Whitfield  do."  Says  I,  askin'  her  right 
out  plain,  "  Don't  you  feel  rested,  Tirzah  Ann  ? " 

"  Why  yes,"  she  said,  "  she  did." 

"  Wall,"  says  I,  "  1  knew  you  did  from  your  looks. 
Don't  you  and  Whitfield  feel  fresh  and  vigorous  and 
rested  every  mornin',  ready  to  take  up  the  labor  of  the 
day  with  a  willin'  heart?  Do  you  either  of  you  have 
any  more  work  to  do  than  is  for  your  health  to  do  ? 
Don't  you  find  plenty  of  time  for  rest  and  recreation 
every  day  as  you  go  along?"  Says  I:  "It  is  with 
health  jest  as  it  is  with  cleanin'  house.  I  don't  believe 
in  lettin'  things  get  all  run  down,  and  nasty,  and  then 
once  a  year  tear  everything  to  pieces,  and  do  up  the 
hull  cleanin'  of  a  year  to  once,  and  then  let  everything 
go  again  for  another  year.  No !  I  believe  in  keepin' 
everything  slick  and  comfortable  day  by  day,  and  year 
by  year.  In  housens,  have  a  daily  mixture  of  cleanin' 
and  comfort.  In  health,  have  a  daily  mixture  of  labor, 
recreation,  and  rest.  I  mean  for  folks  like  you  and 
Whitfield,  who  can  do  BO.  Of  course  some  have  to 


THE   ANNUAL   TURNOUT. 


STRANGE  PATHS.  291 

work  beyond  their  strength,  and  stiddy;  let  them  take 
their  rest  and  comfort  when  they  can  get  it;  better 
take  it  once  a  year,  like  a  box  of  pills,  than  not  at  all. 
But  as  for  you  and  Whitfield,  I  say  again,  in  the 
almost  immortal  words  of  the  poet,  'better  let  well 
enough  alone.'" 

"  But,"  says  she,  "  I  want  to  do  as  other  folks  do. 
I  am  bound  not  to  let  Miss  Skidmore  get  the  upper 
hands  of  me.  I  want  to  be  genteel." 

"  Wall,"  says  I,  "  if  you  are  determined  to  foller 
them  paths,  Tirzah  Ann,  you  mustn't  come  to  your 
ma  for  advice.  She  knows  nothin'  about  them  path- 
ways ;  she  never  walked  in  'em." 

I  could  see  jest  where  it  was.  I  could  see  that  Miss 
Skidmore  was  to  the  bottom  of  it  all — she  and  Tirzah 
Ann's  ambition.  I  could  lay  the  hull  on  it  to  them  2. 
The  Skidmores  hadn't  lived  to  Jonesville  but  a  little 
while,  and  Miss  Skidmore  was  awful  big-feelin'  and 
was  determined  to  lead  the  fashion.  She  wouldn't 
associate  with  hardly  anybody;  wouldn't  speak  to  only 
jest  a  few.  And  when  she  wuz  to  parties,  or  any- 
where, she  would  set  kind  o'  stunny  and  motionless 
— some  as  if  her  head  was  stiff  and  she  couldn't  bend  it. 

Why,  I  s'posed  the  first  time  I  see  her  appear — 
it  was  to  quite  a  big  party  to  Elder  Bamber'ses — why, 
I  s'posed  jest  as  much  as  if  I  had  it  on  myself,  that 
she  had  a  stiff  neck;  s'posed  she  had  took  cold,  and  it 
had  settled  there.  I  never  mistrusted  it  was  tryin'  to 
act  genteel  that  ailed  her.  I  see  when  I  WM  intro- 


292 


A  STIFF  NECK. 


duced  to  her  that  she  acted  sort  o'  curious  and  stunny, 
and  I  stood  by  and  watched  her  (sunthin'  as  I  would 
a  small  circus),  and  I  see  that  she  acted  in  jest  that 
way  to  most  everybody  that  was  introduced  to  her. 


MISS  SKIDMORE. 


And  I  knew,  judgin'  her  by  myself,  that  she  would 
want  to  move  her  head  more  and  act  more  limber  if 
she  could,  so  I  up  and  told  her  in  a  friendly  way,  that 
if  I  was  in  her  place  I  would  steep  up  some  camfrey 


"BURDOCK  COULDITT  HELP  'EM."  293 

roots,  and  take  'em  three  times  a  day;  and  at  night  1 
would  take  some  burdock  leaves,  and  wilt  'em,  and 
bind  'em  on  her  neck.  Says  I : 

"  Burdock  will  take  that  stiffness  out  of  your  neck  if 
anything  will." 

But  Sister  Bamber  winked  me  out,  and  told  me  what 
ailed  her ;  told  me  she  kep'  her  head  up  in  that  sort  of  a 
stiff  way,  and  sot  in  them  stunny,  motionless  autitudes 
and  postures,  in  order  to  be  genteel  and  aristocratic. 
And  I  felt  like  a  fool  to  think  I  had  been  a  recom- 
mendin'  burdock  for  it.  For  I  knew  in  a  minute  that 
when  anybody  held  their  neck  craned  up  in  that  way 
in  order  to  act  genteel  and  aristocratic — good  land !  1 
knew  burdock  couldn't  help  'em  any.  I  knew  it  was 
common  sense  they  wanted,  and  a  true  dignity,  and  the 
sweet  courtesy  of  gentle  breeding, — burdock  couldn't 
help  'em.  Why,  some  said  she  felt  above  old  Skid- 
more  himself,  and  thought  she  was  kinder  stoopin'  to 
associate  with  him,  and  talk  with  him.  I  don't  know 
how  true  that  was,  but  I  know  she  tried  to  be  dretful 
genteel,  and  put  on  sights  of  airs.  And  Tirzah  Ann 
bein'  ambitious,  and  knowin'  she  looked  a  good  deal 
better  than  she  did,  and  knew  as  much  agin',  and 
knowin'  that  Whitfield  was  as  good  agin  a  lawyer  as 
her  husband  was,  and  3  times  as  well  off,  wasn't  goin' 
to  stand  none  of  her  airs.  She  did  seem  to  sort  o' 
look  down  on  Tirzah  Ann,  and  feel  above  her,  and  it 
madded  Tirzah  Ann  awfully,  for  she  never  felt  as  I 
did  on  that  subject. 


294  EVERYBODY  SATISFIED. 

Now  if  anybody  wanted  to  put  on  airs,  and  feel 
above  me,  I  shouldn't  do  a  thing  to  break  it  up — not 
a  thing.  I  should  filosofize  on  it  in  this  way :  because 
they  felt  as  if  they  was  better  than  I  was,  that  wouldn't 
make  'em  BO  ;  if  it  would,  why  I  should  probable  get 
up  more  interest  on  the  subject.  But  it  wouldn't.  It 
wouldn't  make  'em  a  mite  better,  nor  me  a  mite  worse, 
so  what  hurt  would  it  do,  anyway  ?  It  wouldn't  hen- 
der  me  from  feelin'  as  cool  and  contented  and  happy 
as  a  cluster  cowcumber  at  sunrise,  and  it  would  prob- 
able make  them  feel  sort  o'  comfortable  and  good,  so  I 
should  be  glad  they  felt. 

But  not  bein'  jealous  dispositioned  by  nater,  and 
and  havin'  so  many  other  things  to  think  of — soarin' 
and  divin'  so  high  and  deep  into  curious  and  solemn 
subjects  as  I  have  soared  and  doven,  I  s'pose  folks 
might  feel  milds  and  milds  above  me,  and  I  not  mis- 
trust what  they  was  a  doin';  never  find  it  out  in  the 
world  unless  I  was  told  of  it. 

Now  when  Tirzah  Ann  was  about  14  or  15,  she  that 
was  Keturah  Allen,  a  haughty,  high-headed  sort  of  a 
woman,  come  to  our  house  a  visitin';  stayed  most  all 
winter.  She  was  a  woman  who  had  seen  better  days ; 
had  been  quite  fore-handed;  and  she  kep'  her  fore- 
handed ways  when  her  four  handa  (as  you  may  say  in 
a  figirative  way)  was  gone  and  used  up.  She  was  real 
poor  now,  hadn't  nothiu'  to  live  on  hardly,  and  I  told 
Josiah  that  we  would  invite  her  to  stay  quite  a  spell, 


WHAT  KETURAH  WAS  DOING. 


295 


thinkin'  it  would  be  a  help  to  her.     She  was  a  distant 
cousin  of  Josiah ;  probable  aa  fur  off  as  7th  or  8th. 

She  had  a  very  disagreeable,  high-headed,  patron- 
izin'  way  with  her;  very  proud  and  domineerin'  and 
haughty  in  her  demeanier.  But  I  never  had  it  pass 
my  mind  that  she  was  a  feelin'  above  Josiah  and  me. 


KETUKAH  ALLEN. 


But  I  s'pose  she  wuz.  I  s'pose,  from  what  I  found  out 
afterwards,  that  she  did  feel  above  us,  right  there  in 
our  own  house,  for  as  much  as  11  weeks,  and  I  never 
mistrusted  what  was  goin'  on.  And  I  don't  s'poie  I 
should  have  found  it  out  to  this  day  if  Tirzah 
hadn't  see  it,  and  up  and  told  me  of  it. 


296  A.  CONFIDENTIAL  CHAT. 

I  see  she  was  awful  disagreeable,  dretful  hard  on 
the  nerves  and  the  temper.  But  I  took  her  as  a 
dispensation,  and  done,  if  anything,  better  by  her 
than  I  would  if  she  had  been  more  agreeablcr.  I  felt 
a  feelin'  of  pity  and  kindness  towards  her,  a  kind  of  a 
Biblical  feelin'  that  should  be  felt  towards  the  froward 
— my  principles  was  a  performing  round  her  in  a 
martyr  way,  and  a  performin'  first  rate. 

When  Tirzah  Ann  come  here  (she  had  been  off  on  a 
visit),  and  before  she  had  been  home  a  day,  she  found 
out  what  she  was  up  to.  She  always  had  a  sort  of  a 
jealous,  mistrustin'  turn,  Tirzah  Ann  had.  And  says 
she  that  night,  as  we  was  a  washin'  the  dishes  to  the 
sink,  I  a  washin'  and  she  a  wipin' : 

"  Cousin  Keturah  feels  above  you,  mother." 

"Why,  how  you  talk,"  says  I.  "I  never  mistrusted 
what  she  was  a  doin'." 

And  she  had  kept  watch  of  little  things  that  I 
hadn't  noticed  or  thought  of,  and  says  she : 

"  She  did  that,  mother,  because  she  felt  above  you." 

"  Why,  is  that  so  ?  "  says  I.  "  I  thought  she  done 
it  because  she  thought  so  much  of  me." 

And  I  kep'  on,  serene  and  calm,  a  washin'  my  tea- 
plates.  And  Tirzah  Ann  looked  keen  at  me,  and  says 
she: 

"  Don't  you  believe  I  am  tellin'  you  the  truth, 
mother  ?  Don't  you  believe  she  does  feel  above  us  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  says  I,  "  I  persume  you  are  in  the  right 


"LET  HER  FEEL."  297 

on't,  though  I  never  should  have  mistrusted  such  a 
thing  in  the  world." 

"  Wall,  what  makes  you  look  so  serene  and  happy 
over  it  ? " 

"  Why,  I  am  thinkin',  Tirzah  Ann,  whether  she  gets 
enough  comfort  out  of  it  to  pay  her  for  her  trouble.  I 
hope  she  does,  poor  thing,  for  she  hain't  got  much  else 
to  make  her  happy." 

"  You  do  beat  all,  mother,"  says  Tirzah  Ann ;  "you 
don't  seem  to  care  a  mite  whether  anybody  puts  on 
airs  and  feels  above  you  or  not." 

And  says  I,  "  That  is  jest  how  it  is,  Tirzah  Ann ;  I 
don't." 

"  Wall,  it  makes  me  mad  !  "  says  she,  a  rubbin'  the 
teapot  hard. 

Says  I,  "  What  earthly  hurt  does  it  do  to  us,  Tirzah 
Ann  ?  Can  you  tell  ?  " 

"  Why,  no ! "  She  couldn't  really  tell  what  particu- 
lar hurt  it  done,  and  she  rubbed  the  teapot  a  little 
slower  and  more  reasonable. 

"  Wall,"  says  I,  coolly,  "  then  let  her  feel.  It  prob- 
able does  her  some  good,  or  else  she  wouldn't  tackle 
the  job." 

And  jest  as  I  had  argued  with  Tirzah  Ann  about  she 
that  was  Keturah  Allen,  jest  so  I  had  argued,  and  did 
argue  about  Miss  Skidmore.  But  I  couldn't  convince 
her — she  stuck  to  it 

"  It  does  look  so  poor,  mother,  so  fairly  sickish,  to 
see  anybody  that  hain't  got  nothin'  under  the  •on  to 


298  JONESVILLE  ARISTOCRATS. 

make  'em  feel  proud,  put  on  such  airs,  and  try  to 
be  so  exclusive  and  haughty." 

And  says  I,  "Such  folks  have  to,  Tirzah  Ann." 
Says  I,  "  You'll  find,  as  a  general  thing,  that  they  are 
the  very  ones  who  do  it.  They  are  the  very  ones  who 
put  on  the  most  airs,  and  they  do  it  because  they  have 
to.  Why,"  says  1,  "  divin'  so  deep  into  filosify  as  I 
have  doven,  it  is  jest  as  plain  to  me  as  anything  can 
be,  that  if  anybody  has  got  uncommon  goodness,  or 
intellect,  or  beauty,  or  wealth,  and  an  assured  position, 
they  don't  have  to  put  on  the  haughtiness  and  airs 
that  them  do  that  hain't  got  nothin'.  They  don't  have 
to ;  they  have  got  sunthin'  to  hold  'em  up,  they  can 
stand  without  airs." 

I  had  talked  it  all  over  with  Tirzah  Ann  lots  of 
times,  but  it  hadn't  done  her  a  mite  of  good,  as  I 
could  see,  for  I  hadn't  got  through  reveryin'  on  the 
subject,  nor  begun  to,  when  she  up  and  says  agin : 

"Miss  Skidmore  says  that  all  the  high  aristocracy 
of  Jonesville,  if  they  are  aristokrits,"  says  Tirzah 
Ann — "  that  is  the  way  she  pronounces  it,  they  say  she 
can't  read  hardly, — if  they  are  aristokrits,  and  not  im- 
posters,  they  will  go  away  during  the  summer  for  a 
change.  And  I  say,  if  a  change  is  necessary  for  her 
and  old  Skidmore,  why  Whitfield  and  I  have  got  to 
have  a  change,  if  we  die  in  the  attempt." 

"A  change!"  says  I,  in  low  axents,  a  lookin'  round 
the  charmin',  lovely  prospect; — the  clean,  bright  cot- 
tage, with  its  open  doors  and  windows,  and  white  ruf- 


VIEW   OF    JONESVILLE. 


"LET  WELL  ENOUGH  ALONE."  301 

fled  curtains  wavin'  on  the  cool  breeze;  the  green 
velvet  grass,,  the  bright  flower  beds,  the  climbing, 
blossoming  vines,  the  birds  eingin'  in  the  shady 
branches  overhead,  and  in  the  orchard ;  the  blue  lake 
lyin'  so  calm  and  peaceful  in  the  distance,  shining 
over  the  green  hills  and  forests  ;  and  the  wide,  cloud 
less  sky  bending  over  all  like  a  benediction. 

"A  change !  "  says  I,  in  low,  tremblin'  tones  of  emo- 
tion. "  Eve  wanted  a  change  in  Paradise,  and  she  got 
it,  too." 

"  But,"  says  Tirzah  Ann,  for  my  tone  impressed  her 
fearfully,  "  don't  you  believe  in  a  change  for  the  sum- 
mer ?  Don't  you  think  they  are  healthy  ?  " 

I  thought  I  wouldn't  go  into  the  heights  and  depths 
of  felosophy  in  which  I  had  flew  and  doven — she  had 
heard  me  time  and  agin,  and  eloquence  is  very  tuck- 
erin'  especially  after  you  have  been  doin'  a  hard  day's 
work — so  I  merely  said : 

"When  anybody  is  bakin'  up  alive  in  crowded 
cities ;  when  the  hot  sun  is  shinin'  back  on  him  from 
brick  walls  and  stony  roads;  when  all  the  air  that 
comes  to  them  comes  hot  and  suffocatin',  like  a  simon 
blowin'  over  a  desert ;  to  such,  a  change  of  body  is 
sweet,  and  is  truly  healthy.  But,"  says  1,  lookin' 
round  again  on  the  cool  and  entrancin'  beauty  and 
freshness  of  the  land  and  other  scape,  "  to  you  whom 
Providence  has  placed  in  a  Eden  of  beauty  and  bloom, 
to  you  I  again  repeat  for  the  3d  time  that  line  of 


802    HOW  TIRZAH  ANN  GOVERNS  WHTTFIELD. 

eloquent  and  beautiful  poetry, — '  Better  let  well  enough 
alone.'" 

I  could  sec  by  the  looks  of  her  face  that  I  hadn't 
convinced  her.  But  at  that  very  minute  Josiah  came 
back,  and  hollered  to  me  that  "  he  guessed  we  had  bet- 
ter be  goin'  back,  for  he  was  afraid  the  hens  would 
get  out,  and  get  into  the  turnips." 

He  had  jest  set  out  a  new  bed,  and  the  hens  was 
bewitched  to  eat  the  tops  off.  He  had  shut  'em  up, 
but  felt  it  was  resky  to  not  watch  'em.  So  we  started 
off.  But  not  before  I  had  told  Whitfield  my  mind 
about  the  plan.  He  looked  more  convinced  than 
Tirzah  Ann  did,  a  good  deal  more.  But  I  no  need  to 
have  builded  up  any  hopes  on  that,  onto  his  mean, 
for  I  might  have  known  that"  when  a  man  loves  a 
woman  devotedly,  and  they  haint  been  married — wall, 
anywheres  from  1  to  4  or  5  years,  her  influence  over 
him  is  powerful,  and  never  can  be  told.  She  moulds 
him  to  her  will  as  easy  as  clay  is  moulded  in  the  hands 
of  Mr.  Potter.  Sometimes  she  moulds  honer  into 
him,  and  then  again  dishoner ;  sometimes  she  moulds 
him  comfortable,  and  then  again  she  moulds  him  hard, 
and  powerful  oncomfortable.  These  things  are  curious, 
but  useful  and  entertainin'  to  study  on,  and  very  deep. 


TIRZAH  ANN  TO  A  WATERIN'  PLACE. 

WALL,  if  you'll  believe  it,  after  all  my  eloquent 
talk,  and  reasonin',  and  everything,  the  very 
next  week  they  set  off  on  their  journey  after  a  change, 
on  that  exertion  after  rest  and  pleasure.  They  come  to 
see  us  the  day  before  they  went,  but  their  plans  was  all 
laid,  and  tickets  bought,  (they  was  goin'  to  the  same 
place  and  the  same  hotel  and  tavern  Skidmore's  folks 
was),  so  I  didn't  say  nothin  more — what  was  the  use  ? 
Thinkses  I,  bought  wit  is  the  best  if  you  don't  pay  too 
much  for  it;  they'll  find  out  for  themselves  whether  I 
was  in  the  right  on't  or  not. 

But  bad  as  I  thought  it  was  goin'  to  be,  little  did  I 
think  it  was  goin'  to  be  so  bad  as  it  wuz.  Little  did  I 
think  that  Tirzah  Ann  would  be  brought  home  on  a 
bed.  But  she  was.  And  Whitfield  walked  with  two 
canes,  and  had  his  right  arm  in  a  sling.  But  as  I  told 
Josiah,  when  anybody  chased  up  pleasure  so  uncom- 
mon tight,  it  wasn't  no  wonder  they  got  lamed  by  it 
For  pleasure  is  one  of  the  qnriousest  thing*  in  the 

(303) 


304  A  LIFE  LESSON. 


world  to  ketch, — speakin'  in  a  coltish  and  parable  way. 
Almost  impossible  to  ketch  by  chasin'  her.  And  if 
anybody  don't  believe  me,  let  'em  get  up  some  mornin' 
before  sunrise,  and  take  a  halter,  and  start  off  a  pur- 
pose, and  see  if  they  can  overtake  her ; — see  if  they 
can  ketch  her,  and  put  a  bit  and  martingill  onto  her. 
See  if  they  don't  find  she  is  skittish  and  balky,  and 
shies  off  when  they  go  to  put  the  bits  in  her  mouth. 
And  see,  when  they  think  they  have  got  the  upper 
hands  of  her,  whether  she  don't  throw  'em  head  over 
heels,  and  caper  off  agin  in  front  of  'em. 

I  have  spoke  in  a  parable  way,  and  would  not  wish 
to  be  understood  a  thinkin'  pleasure  is  a  horse.  Far 
from  it.  But  this  is  a  very  deep  subject,  and  would 
be  apt  to  carry  any  one  beyond  their  depth  if  not  sim- 
plified and  brought  down  to  human  comprehension. 

The  first  time  I  went  to  see  'em  after  they  got  back, 
Tirzah  Ann  told  me  all  about  it.  She  could  set  up 
some  then.  But  if  it  wasn't  a  pitiful  sight  to  see 
them  three— Whitfield,  Tirzah  Ann,  and  the  babe. 
To  see  how  their  means  looked  now,  and  then  to  look 
back  and  think  how  they  had  looked  the  last  time  I 
had  seen  'em  in  that  very  place.  Why,  as  I  looked  at 
'em,  and  see  how  feeble,  and  mauger,  and  used  up 
they  all  looked,  there  wasn't  hardly  a  dry  eye  in  my 
head.  Tirzah  Ann  told  me  it  was  a  lesson  that  would 
last  her  through  her  hull  life.  Why,  she  said  right 
out  plain,  that  if  she  should  live  to  be  3  or  400  years 


"A   PITIFUL   SIGHT." 


DOWN  AT  THE  HEEL.  807 

old,  she  shouldn't  never  forget  it,  and  I  don't  believe 
myself  that  she  would. 

There  they  was,  she  and  Whitfield,  poor  as  2  snails. 
I  never  see  either  of  'em  in  half  so  poor  order 
before.  They  hadn't  no  ambition  nor  strength  to 
work.  Their  morals  had  all  got  run  down.  Their 
best  clothes  was  all  wore  out.  And  that  babe!  I 
could  have  cried,  and  wept,  to  see  how  that  pretty  lit- 
tle thing  was  lookin'.  Poor  as  a  feeble  young  snail,  and 
pale  as  a  little  white  cotton  piller-case.  Her  appetite 
was  all  gone,  too.  She  had  always  been  used  to  sweet, 
fresh  milk — the  milk  from  her  own  heifer,  white  as 
snow,  with  a  brindle  back,  that  her  grandpa  give 
her  for  the  name  of  Samantha.  It  gives  dretful  sweet, 
rich  milk.  And  the  babe  almost  lived  on  it.  And  all 
the  milk  they  could  get  for  her  there  was  sale  milk, 
sour  half  the  time,  and  at  the  best  full  of  adultery,  so 
Whitfield  said.  And  I  don't  think  anything  that  hap- 
pened to  them  on  their  hull  tower  made  Josiah  and 
me  so  mad  as  that  did.  To  think  of  that  sweet  little 
babe's  sufferin'  from  adulted  and  sour  milk.  It  made 
us  so  awful  indignant  that  we  can't  hardly  speak 
peacible  now,  a  talkin'  about  it. 

And  then  they  was  all  cooped  up  together  in  a  little 
mite  of  a  room,  and  she  was  used  to  bein'  out-doors 
half  the  time,  and  had  a  great,  cool,  airy  room  to  sleep 
in  nights ;  and  bein'  shet  up  so  much,  in  such  close, 
bad  air,  it  all  wore  on  her,  and  almost  used  her  up. 
Oh !  how  pale  she  was,  and  manger,  and  crow !  Oh ! 


308  LIKE  HER  GRANDPA. 

how  fearfully  cross!  She  would  almost  take  our 
heads  off,  Josiah's  and  mine,  (as  it  were,)  every  time 
we  would  speak  to  her.  It  was  dretful  affectin'  to  me 
to  see  her  so  snappish ;  it  reminded  me  so  of  her 
grandpa  in  his  most  fractious  hours,  and  I  told  him  it 
did.  Josiah  felt  bad  to  see  her  so;  it  cut  him  down 
jest  as  bad  as  it  did  me. 

And  then  to  see  Whitfield's  and  Tirzah  Ann's 
demeaniers  and  means !  Why  jest  as  sure  as  I  live 
and  breathe  they  didn't  seem  no  more  like  their  old 
means  and  demeaniers  than  if  they  belonged  to  per- 
fect strangers,  and  I  told  Tirzah  Ann  so. 

And  she  bust  right  out  a-cryin',  and  says  she, 
"  Mother,  one  week's  more  rest  would  have  tuckered 
me  completely  out.  I  could  not  have  stood  it,  I 
should  have  died  off." 

I  wiped  my  own  eyes,  I  was  so  affected,  and  says  I, 
in  choked-up  axents,  "  You  know  I  told  you  how  it 
would  be,  I  told  you  that  you  was  happy  enough  to 
home,  and  you  hadn't  better  go  off  in  search  of 
pleasure." 

Says  she,  bustin'  right  out  agin,  "  One  week  more  of 
pleasure  and  recreation  would  have  been  my  death- 
blow." 

Says  I,  "  I  believe  it.  But,"  says  I,  knowin'  it  was 
my  duty  to  be  calm,  "  It  is  all  over  now,  Tirzah  Ann. 
You  hain't  got  to  go  through  the  pleasure  agin.  You 
hain't  got  to  rest  any  more.  You  must  try  to  over- 
come your  feelin's.  Tell  your  ma  all  about  it,"  says  I, 


NIGHT  WORK. 


309 


thinkin'  it  would  mebby  do  her  good,  and  get  her  mind 
offen  it  quicker. 

So  she  up  and  told  me  the  hull  story.    And  I  see 
plain  that  Miss  Skidmore  was  to  the  bottom  of  it  all. 


KEEPIN     UP  HER  END. 


She  and  Tirzah  Ann's  determination  to  not  let  her  get 
ahead  of  her,  and  be  more  genteel  than  she  was. 
Tirzah  Ann  said  she  was  jest  about  sick  when  they 
started,  for  she  found  out  most  the  last  minute  that 
Miss  Skidmore  had  one  dress  more  than  she  had,  and 
a  polenay,  and  so  she  sent  at  once  for  materials  and 
ingregients,  and  sot  up  day  and  night  and  worked  till 


310  RESTIN'  AND  RECREATIN'. 

she  had  got  hers  made,  full  as  good  and  a  little  ahead 
of  Miss  Skidmore's. 

Wall,  they  started  the  same  day,  and  went  to  the 
same  place,  a  fashionable  summer  resort,  and  put  up 
to  the  same  tavern,  a  genteel  summer  tavern,  to  rest 
and  recreate.  And  Miss  Skidmore  bein'  a  great,  heal- 
thy, strong,  raw-boned  woman,  could  stand  as  much 
agin  rest  and  recreation  as  Tirzah  Ann  could. 

Why,  Tirzah  Ann  said  the  rest  was  enough  to  wear 
out  a  leather  woman,  and  how  she  ever  stood  it  for 
two  weeks  was  more  than  she  could  tell. 

You  see  she  wasn't  used  to  hard  work.  I  had 
always  favored  her,  and  gone  ahead  with  the  work 
myself,  when  she  lived  to  home ;  and  Whitfield  had 
been  as  careful  of  her  as  he  could  be,  and  jest  as  good 
as  a  woman  to  help  her,  and  so  the  rest  come  tough 
on  her ;  it  was  dretful  hard  on  her.  But  as  hard  as 
the  rest  was  for  her,  I  s'pose  the  recreation  was  as 
bad  agin ;  I  s'pose  it  was  twice  as  tough  on  her. 

You  see  she  had  to  dress  up  3  or  4  times  a  day,  and 
keep  the  babe  dressed  up  slick.  And  she  had  to 
prominade  down  to  the  waterin'  place  and  drink  at 
jest  such  a  time.  And  go  a-ridin'  out  on  the  water  in 
boats  and  yots  ;  and  had  to  play  crokay,  and  be  up  till 
midnight  every  night  to  parties.  You  see  she  had  to 
do  all  this,  ruther  than  let  Miss  Skidmore  get  on  ahead 
of  her,  and  do  more  than  she  did,  be  more  genteel 
than  she  was,  and  rest  more. 

Their  room  was  a  little  mite  of  a  room  up  four 


MIDNIGHT   AT   A   WATERING    PLACE. 


BEIN'  GENTEEL  318 


flights  of  stairs,  and  Tirzah  Ann  never  could  climb 
stairs  worth  a  cent ;  and  it  leaked  awful — the  rain 
come  down  round  the  chimbley.  But  they  had  to 
take  that  room  or  none,  the  house  bein'  so  full  and 
runnin'  over.  And  Whitfield  thinkin'  they  could  rest 
better  in  it  than  they  could  on  the  fence  or  door-step, 
took  it.  But  if  there  happened  to  come  up  a  storm  in 
the  night,  a  thunder-storm  or  anything,  they  would 
have  to  histe  their  umberells  and  lay  under  'em. 
They  must  have  looked  as  curious  as  2  dogs,  and  I 
told  'em  so. 

The  room  bein'  so  high  up,  it  wore  on  Tirzah  Ann 
— she  never  could  climb  stairs  worth  a  cent.  And 
then  it  was  so  small,  the  air  was  close,  nearly  tight, 
and  hot  as  a  oven.  And  the  babe  bein'  used  to  large, 
cool  rooms,  full  of  fresh,  pure  air,  couldn't  stand  the 
hotness  and  the  tightness,  and  it  begun  to  enjoy  poor 
health,  and  it  cried  most  all  the  time.  And  to  home 
it  could  play  round  out  in  the  yard  all  day  a'most, 
and  here  it  hung  right  onto  its  ma.  And  before  long 
she  begun  to  enjoy  poor  health. 

And  then  the  room  on  one  side  of  'em  was  occupied 
by  a  young  man  who  was  learnin'  to  play  on  the  flute. 
He  had  been  disappointed  in  love,  and  he  would  try  to 
make  up  tunes  as  he  went  along,  sort  o'  tragedy  style, 
and  dirge-like.  The  most  unearthly,  and  woe-begone, 
and  soul-harrowin'  sounds,  they  say  that  they  ever 
heard  or  read  of.  They  say  it  was  enough  to  make 
any  one's  blood  run  cold  in  their  vains  to  hear  'em. 


314 


THE  AGONIZED  LOVER. 


He  kept  his  room  most  of  the  time,  and  played  day 
and  night.     He  had  ruther  be  alone  day  times,  and 


WAILS  OF  WOE. 


think  of  that  girl,  and  lament  over  her,  and  play  about 
her,  than  go  into  company;  and  nights  he  couldn't 
sleep,  owin'  to  his  trouble,  so  he  would  set  up  and 
play.  They  was  sorry  for  him,  they  said  they  was. 
They  said  they  knew  he  must  have  been  in  a  awful 
state,  and  his  sufferin's  intense,  or  he  couldn't  harrow 
up  anybody's  feelin's  so.  But  that  didn't  make  it 
none  the  easier  for  them. 
Tirzah  Ann  and  Whitfield  are  both  tender-hearted 


BAD  SPELLS.  315 


and  sympathetic  by  nature ;  if  they  hadn't  been,  it 
wouldn't  have  been  so  hard  on  'em.  But  they  both 
say  that  tongue  never  can  express  the  sufferin's  they 
underwent  from  that  flute,  and  from  the  feelin's  they 
felt  for  that  young  man.  They  expected  every  day  to 
hear  that  he  had  made  way  with  himself,  his  sufferin's 
seemed  so  great.  Such  agonizin'  wails  of  woe  he 
would  blow  into  that  flute !  and  he  would  groan  and 
writhe  so  when  he  wasn't  a  playin'. 

Twice  Whitfield  went  to  bed  with  his  clothes  on,  he 
was  so  certain  the  young  feller  couldn't  stand  it  till 
mornin',  and  would  need  help. 

The  room  on  the  other  side  of  'em  was  occupied  by 
a  young  woman  who  owned  a  melodeon.  She  went 
into  company  a  good  deal,  and  her  spells  to  play 
would  come  on  nights,  after  she  got  home  from  par- 
ties. She  had  a  good  many  bo's,  and  was  happy  dis- 
positioned  naturally,  and  they  said  some  nights  it 
seemed  as  if  there  wouldn't  be  no  end  hardly  to  her 
playin',  quick  pieces,  waltzes,  and  pokeys  bein'  her 
theme — and  love  songs,  which  she  would  sing  very 
sentimental  and  impressive,  and  put  in  sights  of  quav- 
ers and  shakes — they  said  it  did  seem  as  if  they  never 
see  so  many  quavers  and  trills  as  she  trilled  and 
quavered. 

Tirzah  Ann  and  Whitfield  both  said  that  they  knew 
what  it  was  to  be  young,  they  had  been  young  them- 
selves, not  much  more'n  two  years  ago,  and  they  knew 

by  experience  what  it  was  to  be  lovesick,  and  they 
12 


316 


TIRZAH  HAS  THE  HISTORICKS. 


wanted  to  sympathize  with  happiness  and  gayity  of 
heart,  and  they  didn't  want  to  do  nothin'  to  break  up 
her  highlarity  of  spirits.  But  still  it  come  dretful 
tough  on  'em.  I  s'pose  the  sufferin's  couldn't  never 


QUAVERS  AND   SHAKES. 

be  told  nor  sung  that  they  underwent  from  them  2 
musicianers. 

And  the  babe  not  bein'  used  to  such  a  racket  nights 
would  get  skairt,  and  almost  go  into  historical  fits. 
And  two  or  three  nights  Tirzah  Ann  had  'em,  too — 
tl\e  historicks.  I  don't  sec  what  kep'  Whitfield  up; 


SHE  OWNED  IT  HERSELF.  §17 

he  says  no  money  would  tempt  him  to  go  through  with 
it  agin.  I  s'pose  Tirzali  Ann  almost  tore  him  to 
pieces.  But  she  wasn't  to  blame;  she  didn't  know 
what  she  was  a  doin'. 

It  hain't  no  use  to  blame  Tirzah  Ann  now,  after  it 
is  all  over  with.  And  she  sees  it  plain  enough  now ; 
she  is  sufferin'  enough  from  the  effects  of  it — her 
tryin'  to  keep  up  with  Miss  Skidmore,  and  rest  as 
much  as  she  did,  and  recreate  as  fur,  and  do  all  that 
she  done.  And  that  is  where  her  morals  got  all  run 
down,  and  Whitfield's,  too. 

To  think  of  them  two — she  that  was  Tirzah  Ann 
Allen,  and  Whitfield  Minklcy — to  think  of  them  two, 
brought  up  as  they  had  been,  havin'  such  parents  and 
step-parents  as  they  had,  settin'  under  such  a  preacher 
as  they  had  always  set  under — to  think  of  them  two  a 
dancin' !  and  a  flirtin' ! 

Why,  if  anybody  had  told  me,  if  it  had  come  through 
two  or  three,  I  would  have  despised  the  idee  of  be- 
lievin'  of  it.  But  it  didn't  come  through  anybody; 
she  owned  it  up  to  me  herself.  I  couldn't  hardly  be- 
lieve my  ear  when  she  told  me,  but  I  had  to. 

They  had  parties  there  every  evenin'  in  the  parlors 
of  the  tavern,  and  Miss  Skidmore  went  to  'em  all,  and 
danced,  and  so  they  went,  and  they  danced.  I  didn't 
say  nothin'  to  hurt  her  feelin's,  her  mean  looked  so 
dretful,  and  I  see  she  was  a  gettin'  her  pay  for  her 
sinfulness,  but  I  groaned  loud  and  frequent  while  she 
was  a  tellin'  me  of  this  (entirely  unbeknown  to  me). 


318 


LIVELY  TIMES. 


Here  was  where  Whitfield  got  so  lame.  He  never 
had  danced  a  step  before  in  his  life — nor  Tirzah  Ann, 
neither.  But  Skidmore  and  his  wife  danced  every 


COIN    THEIR  LEVEL  BEST. 

night  till  after  midnight,  and  Tirzah  Ann  was  so 
ambitious  she  was  determined  that  she  and  Whitfield 
should  recreate  and  dance  as  much  as  they  did,  if 
they  fell  dead  a  doin'  of  it.  And  not  bein'  used 
to  it,  it  almost  killed  'em.  Besides  loosenin'  their 
morals  so  that  it  will  be  weeks  and  weeks  before  they 
get  as  strong  and  firm  as  they  was  before.  When 


HOW    JOSIAII    WOULD    PLAY    POLO. 


JOSIAH  TAKES  TO  POLO.  321 

morals  get  to  tottlin'  and  wobblin'  round,  it  is  almost 
impossible  to  get  'em  as  firm  as  they  was  before. 

But  truly  they  got  their  pay.  Whitfield  not  bein' 
used  to  it,  and  bein'  so  tuckered  out  with  the  recrea- 
tion and  rest  he  had  been  a  havin',  it  lamed  him  dret- 
fully,  rheumatiz  sot  in,  .and  his  suff erin's  was  intense. 
And  then  a  base-ball  hit  him — or  anyway  he  got  hurt 
awfully  when  he  was  a  playin'  some  game,  base-ball, 
or  billiards,  or  polo.  That  is  a  game,  polo  is,  that  I 
never  heard  on  in  my  life  before,  and  Josiah  was 
awful  interested  in  it  when  I  told  him  about  it.  And 
he  said  he  should  deerly  love  to  learn  to  play  it.  That 
man  acts  frisky  now,  a  good  deal  of  the  time,  and  is  a 
great  case  to  foller  up  new  idees. 

But  I  told  him  it  would  be  dretful  foolish  for  him 
to  try  to  learn  it,  for  the  old  mare  had  enougli  to  do 
now,  without  that.  It  is  played  on  horseback,  and 
from  the  name  I  s'pose  they  try  to  hit  each  other  with 
poles,  or  hit  the  horses,  or  sunthin'.  I  don't  really 
understand  it  well  enough  to  give  directions  about 
playin'  it  straight  and  correct. 

But  Josiah  was  all  carried  away  with  the  idee,  and 
stuck  to  it  he  should  love  to  play  it,  love  to  like  a  dog. 
Says  he:  "How  I  should  enjoy  to  take  a  game  with 
old  Bobbet.  Why,"  says  he,  "  let  me  get  onto  the  old 
mare,  and  give  me  a  good,  strong  hop-pole,  and  I 
believe  I  could  fetch  the  old  man  down  the  first  blow." 

But  1  discourage  the  idee,  and  don't  mean  to  let  him 
undertake  it.  Says  I,  "  Josiah  Allen,  it  stands  you 


322  BREAKJN'  UP  THE  GAME. 

in  hand  at  your  age  to  not  go  to  caperiu'  round,  and 
actin',  and  get  all  the  other  old  men  in  Jonesville  all 
rousted  up  about  it,  and  a  actin'.  And  I  should 
think,"  says  I,  "that  one  lame  one  in  the  family  is 
enough,  without  your  chasin'  after  pleasure  on  the  old 
mare,  and  niebby  both  of  you  get  killed  in  the  job." 

I  guess  I  have  kinder  broke  it  up ;  I  don't  believe 
he  will  try  to  learn  the  game.  But  as  I  was  a  sayin', 
in  that  or  some  other  of  the  games  Whitfield  got  hit 
on  his  elbo,  right  on  his  crazy-bone,  and  I  s'pose  it 
made  him  most  crazy.  But  the  doctor  thinks  with 
the  best  of  care  he  may  get  over  it,  and  use  his  arm 
again. 

Tirzah  Ann's  dancin'  didn't  give  her  the  rheumatiz ; 
it  seemed  to  hurt  her  more  inwardly,  the  doctor  says, 
brought  on  a  kind  of  weakness.  But  where  she  got 
her  death-blows  (as  it  were),  what  laid  her  up,  and 
made  her  bed-sick,  was  goin'  in  bathin',  and  drinkin' 
so  much  mineral  water.  Ridin'  out  on  the  water  so 
much  come  hard  on  'em  both,  for  it  made  'em  sick  as 
snipes.  Every  ride  was  so  severe  on  'em  it  almost 
spilte  their  stomachs.  Tirzah  Ann  never  could  bear 
deep  water — was  always  afraid  of  it.  But  she  wasn't 
goin'  to  have  Miss  Skidmore  bathe,  and  she  not,  not  if 
she  drounded  herself  in  the  operation.  So  she  went 
in,  and  got  skairt  the  minute  the  water  was  over  her 
knees;  it  skairt  her  so  she  had  sort  o'  cramps,  and 
gin  up  she  was  a  droundin'.  And  that  made  it  worse 
for  her,  and  she  did  crumple  right  down  in  the  water, 


SURF  BATHING. 


823 


and  would  have  been  drounded  if  a  man  hadn't  res- 
cued her.  She  was  a  sinkin'  for  the  3d  time  when  he 
laid  holt  of  her  hair,  and  dragged  her  out.  She  hain't 


THE  RESCUE. 


got  over  the  fright  yet, 
and  I  am  afraid  she 
never  will. 

The   mineral   water, 

they  say,  tasted  awfully.  And  Tirzah  Ann  bein'  very 
dainty  always  about  what  she  eat  and  drunk,  it  went 
against  her  stomach  so  she  couldn't  hardly  get  a 
tumbler-full  of  it  down.  But  Miss  Skidmore,  bein'  so 
tough,  could  drink  8  tumblers-full  right  down,  and  it 
seems  it  lifted  her  up  dretfully.  They  said  she  acted 


324 


TAKING  THE  WATER. 


haughty  and  ovcrbcarin'  because  Tirzah  Ann  couldn't 
drink  so  much  as  she  could,  into  a  quart  or  two.  She 
put  on  airs  about  it.  And  Tirzah  Ann  couldn't  stand 


!IT   TASTED   AWFULLY." 


that,  so  one  day,  (it  was  the  day  before  they  come 
home,)  she  drinked  5  tumblers-full  right  down.  And 
I  s'posc  a  sicker  critter  never  lived  than  she  was. 


THE  "RETURN  HOME. 


325 


I  s'pose  they  was  awful  skairt  about  her,  and  she 
was  skairt  about  herself.  She  thought  she  was  a  dyin', 
and  made  Whitfield  promise  on  a  Testament  to  carry 


A  SAD   SCENE. 

her  back  to  Jonesville  the  next  day,  dead  or  alive. 
And  he,  bein'  a  master  hand  to  keep  his  promise,  was 
as  good  as  his  word,  and  brought  her  home  the  next 
day  on  a  bed. 

She  got  up  in  a  day  or  two  so  as  to  be  about  the 
house.  But  they  have  been  laid  up  for  repairs,  as  you 
may  say,  ever  since.  They  are  sick  critters  now,  both 

on  'em.     I  have   seen  awful  and  deplorable  effects 
12* 


326  A  THING  TO  BE  KEPT. 

from  rest  and  recreation  before,  but  never,  never  did 
I  see  awfuller  or  deplorabler  than  they  are  both  a  suf- 
ferin'  from.  They  both  say  that  one  week's  rest  more 
would  have  been  their  death  blows,  and  finished  'em 
for  this  world,  and  J  believe  it. 

And  besides  the  outward  sufferin's  that  are  plain  to 
be  seen,  there  are  inward  hurts  that  are  fur,  fur 
worse.  Outside  bruises  and  hurts  can  be  reached  with 
arneky  and  wormwood,  but  who  can  put  a  mustard 
poultice  on  a  bruised  spirit,  and  a  weakened  moral  ? 
Nobody  can't  do  it. 

Now  what  I  am  a  goin'  to  say,  what  I  am  a  goin'  to 
tell  now,  I  wouldn't  have  get  round  for  the  world — it 
must  be  kept !  If  I  didn't  feel  it  to  be  my  boundin' 
duty  to  write  the  truth,  and  the  hull  truth,  and  if 
it  wuzn't  for  its  bein'  a  solemn  warnin'  to  them  who 
may  have  felt  a  hankerin'  to  go  off  on  a  tower  after 
rest ;  if  it  wuzn't  for  this  I  couldn't  write  the  awful 
words.  But  I  wouldn't  have  it  told  for  anything;  I 
wouldn't  have  it  get  round  for  the  world.  It  must  be 
kept.  But  sense  I  am  on  the  subject  I  will  tell  it  jest 
as  it  is.  But  it  must  not  go  no  further.  Tirzah  Ann 
didn't  tell  it  right  out  to  me,  but  I  gathered  it  from 
little  things  I  heard  her  and  Whitfield  say,  and  from 
what  I  heard  from  others  that  was  there.  I  mistrust, 
and  pretty  much  know,  that  Tirzah  Ann  flirted. 
Flirted  with  a  man ! 

You  see,  Miss  Skidmore  wantin'  to  appear  fashion- 
able and  genteel,  and  do  as  other  genteel  wimmen  did, 


TIRZAH    ANN   FLIRTS   WITH  A  MAN. 


THE  DREADFUL  TRUTH.  ii29 

flirted  with  men.  And  I  know  jest  as  well  as  I  want 
to  know  that  Tirzali  Ann  did,  not  wantin'  to  be  out- 
done. I  know  she  and  Whitfield  quarreled  dretfullj, 
for  the  first  time  in  their  lives, — that  I  had  right  from 
Tirzah  Ann's  own  mouth.  But  she  didn't  tell  me 
what  it  was  about.  She  looked  sort  o'  meachin',  and 
turned  the  subject,  and  I  hain't  one  to  pump.  But  I 
s'pose,  from  what  they  both  told  me,  that  they  come 
pretty  nigh  partin'.  And  I  know,  jest  as  well  as  if  I 
see  her  at  it,  that  Tirzah  Ann  bein'  so  ambitious,  and 
not  wantin'  to  be  outdone  by  Miss  Skidmore,  went  to 
flirtin',  and  I  mistrust  it  was  with  old  Skidmore  him- 
self. I  know  he  and  Whitfield  don't  speak.  Tirzah 
Ann  never  could  bear  the  sight  of  him,  but  I  s'pose 
she  wanted  to  gaul  Miss  Skidmore. 

Oh!  such  doin's,  such  doin's!  It  worked  up  me 
and  Josiah  dretfully.  As  I  told  him,  "where  would 
their  morals  have  been,  if  they  had  rested  and  recre- 
ated much  longer  ?  " 

And  he  groaned  aloud,  and  said  what  gauled  him 
the  worst  was  to  think  of  the  piles  and  piles  of  money 
they  had  ihrowed  away.  Says  he :  "  It  will  cramp  'em 
for  months  and  months," — and  it  will. 


MISS  BOBBET  LETS  THE  CAT  OUT. 

MY  companion  Josiah  havin'  bought  a  quantity  of 
fresh  fish,  I  thought  I  would  carry  one  over  to 
Miss  Betsey  Slimpsy, — she  that  was  Betsey  Bobbet, — 
thinkin'  mebby  it  would  taste  good  to  her.  Betsey  hain't 
well.  Some  think  she  is  in  a  gallopin'  consumption,  but 
I  don't.  I  think  it  is  her  workin'  so  hard,  and  farin'  so 
hard.  She  has  to  support  the  family  herself,  almost 
entirely ;  she  don't  have  enough  to  eat  a  good  deal  of 
the  time,  so  folks  say ;  she  hain't  got  any  clothes  fit  to 
wear;  and  she  has  to  be  such  a  slave,  and  work  so 
awful  hard,  that  it  don't  seem  as  if  she  is  half  as 
bright  as  she  used  to  be.  As  she  says,  if  it  wasn't 
for  the  dignity  she  got  by  bein'  married,  it  didn't  seem 
as  if  she  could  keep  up.  But  that,  she  says,  is  a  great 
comfort  to  her. 

But  she  looks  bad.  She  don't  get  no  sleep  at  all, 
she  says,  or  none  to  speak  of.  Simon's  horrors  are 
worse  than  I  ever  dremp'  horrors  could  be.  They  are 
truly  horrible.  Every  night  he  pounds  on  the  head- 

(330) 


A  VIBIT  TO  BETSEY'S. 


331 


board,  yells  awful,  prances  round,  and  kicks.  Why, 
Betsey  says,  and  I  believe  her,  that  she  is  black  and 
blue  most  the  hull  time,  jest  from  kicks.  I  am  sorry 
for  Betsey. 

Wall,  I  give  her  the  fish, — she  seemed  awful  glad 


A  PRESENT  FOR  BETSEY. 

of  it, — and  visited  with  her  a  little  while,  and  then, 
as  supper-time  was  approachin'  and  drawin'  near,  I 
histed  my  umberell,  and  started  out  on  my  homeward 
return. 

It  was  a  lovely  evenin'.    It  had  been  a  very  hot  day, 


332 


A  PLEASANT  WALK. 


but  the  sun  had  sot  down  (as  it  were)  behind  the  trees 
to  cool  himself  off,  and  the  earth,  takin'  advantage  of 
his  temporary  retirement,  seemed  to  foller  on  and  do 
likewise.  So  I  walked  along  on  the  green  grass,  under 


FRIENDLY  FEELIN'S 

the  swayin'  branches  of  the  apple-trees  that  bent  down 
over  the  highway — great,  liberal-hearted  trees,  stretch- 
ing their  strong  brown  arms  out  in  blessing  and  bene- 
diction— out  over  their  own  rich,  cultivated  soil  and 
the  dusty  highway,  over  foe  and  lover,  tramp,  and 


LOOKIN'  WELL  AND  FEELIN'  WELL.  333 

Josiah  Allen's  wife.  I  liked  that  in  the  trees — liked 
it  first-rate  in  'em.  It  made  me  feel  well  to  walk  in 
their  refreshin'  shade. 

The  apples  were  ripenin'  in  the  clusterin'  boughs, 
birds  sang  in  the  branches,  the  blue  sky  shone  down 
lovin'ly.  The  wayside  blossoms  grew  thick  at  my  feet, 
the  grass  was  like  a  velvet  carpet  under'  em,  and,  most 
beautiful  scene  of  all,  my  Josiah  stood  in  the  barn- 
door, nailin'  on  a  board. 

Oh !  how  first-rate  1  did  feel  and  look.  I  knew  I 
was  a  lookin'  well.  I  knew  it  jest  as  \ve\\  as  I  wanted 
to,  before  I  met  my  companion's  admirin'  look,  as  he 
asked  me,  in  considerable  tender  tones,  if  I  knew 
whether  there  was  any  more  of  them  tenpcnny  nails 
left. 

I  told  him  there  wuzn't.  And  then,  oh !  how  ad 
mirin'  he  looked  at  me  agin,  as  I  told  him  he  had 
better  hurry  and  finish  the  door,  as  I  was  goin'  right 
in  to  put  on  the  tea-kettle  and  get  supper  jest  as  quick 
as  I  could. 

His  smile  was  like  sunshine  to  my  heart,  as  he  told 
me  he  would  be  in  by  the  time  I  got  it  ready,  and  I'd 
better  hurry  up. 

As  I  walked  towards  the  house  I  was  feelin'  beauti- 
ful, and  very  affectionate  towards  my  pardner.  For 
love,  no  matter  how  full  and  ardent  it  may  be,  will, 
like  other  great  deeps,  have  its  ebbs  and  flows,  its  high 
tides  and  its  more  dwindlin*  ones. 

At  that  moment  my  love  and  my  confidence  in  my 


334  A  STRANGE  OCCURENCE. 

Josiah  swept  up  in  my  heart  to  the  highest  tide-level. 
And  I  thought,  as  I  walked  along,  that  I  would  shet 
up  that  eye  of  my  spectacles — that  I  never  would  agin 
let  distrust  and  a  Widder  Bump  cause  me  a  moment's 
disquiet  and  unhappiness. 

And  though  I  could  not  deny  to  myself  that  Josiah 
Allen's  conduct,  in  the  spring  of  the  year,  and  on  a 
Friday  night,  had  been  mysterious,  I  felt  that  I  would 
look  back  upon  it  as  I  look  on  scriptural  passages  that 
I  can't  make  out  the  meanin'  of.  I  always  feel  in  them 
cases  that  it  is  the  fault  of  the  translator.  No  matter 
how  mysterious  the  meanin'  may  seem,  I  know  that 
the  Scriptures  are  right,  anyway.  And  I  felt  that  I 
would  look  back  in  that  way  upon  my  companion's 
strange  words  and  demeaners.  I  felt  that  I  would 
trust  my  Josiah. 

And  so,  bein'  full  of  love  and  confidence  in  Josiah 
Allen  and  the  world  at  large,  I  walked  with  a  even 
step  up  to  the  door-step,  and  as  I  did  so  I  see  the 
kitchen-door  was  open.  I  thought  that  looked  sort  o' 
strange,  as  I  knew  that  my  Josiah  had  been  to  the 
barn  to  work  all  the  time  I  was  gone.  But  I  went  in, 
and  as  I  did  so  I  see  a  man  a  standin'  by  the  stove. 
He  was  a  short,  stocky  man,  dressed  middlin'  well,  but 
he  had  a  strange  look. 

He  was  considerable  older  than  Josiah,  I  should 
think.  His  face  was  red  and  bloated,  and  his  hair 
bein'  white  as  snow,  and  his  white  whiskers  runnin' 
all  round  his  chin,  and  up  the  sides  of  his  face,  it  give 


NOTHING  PRETTY  ABOUT  IT. 


335 


it  considerable  the  look  of  a  red  pin-cushion  with  a 
white  ruffle  round  it.  Only  the  ruffle  (still  usin'  the 
poetical  simely)  wuzn't  white  under  his  chin.  No,  he 
nsed  too  much  tobacco  for  that.  1  s'pose  he  used  it 


MEETING   THE  ELDER. 


for  the  good  looks 
of  it;  I  s'pose  that 
is  what  folks  use 
tobacco  for.  But 
good  land !  I  can't  see  a  single  pretty  look  to  it,  nor 
never  could,  from  the  time  a  man  takes  in  a  half  a  plug 
or  so,  and  wads  it  up  in  one  side  of  his  mouth,  showin' 
his  yeller,  nasty-lookin'  teeth,  and  lettin'  the  black, 
filthy-lookin'  juice  run  down  his  mouth  and  whiskers, 


336  UNPROFITABLE  BUSINESS. 

to  the  time  he  Spits  it  all  out  agin  onto  carpets,  stair- 
ways, church  pews,  concert  halls,  car  floors,  wimmen's 
dresses,  and  et  cetery. 

/  can't  see  a  mite  of  pretty  looks  about  it.  But  I 
am  reasonable  and  always  was.  And  there  probable 
may  be  some  beauty  in  it  that  I  hain't  never  seen,  or 
there  wouldn't  so  many  foller  it  up. 

For  it  must  be  for  the  looks  of  it  that  they  use  it. 
I  have  studied  on  it  a  sight,  and  there  hain't  no  other 
reason  that  I  can  see.  And  if  there  had  been  any 
the  keen  eye  of  my  spectacles  would  have  ketched 
sight  on  it.  They  go  awful  deep  into  subjects,  them 
spectacles  do. 

It  can't  be  for  the  taste  of  it  that  they  use  it,  for  it 
don't  taste  good.  That  I  know,  for  J  got  some  into 
my  mouth  once  by  mistake,  over  to  Miss  Bobbet's,  and 
so  what  I  know,  I  know ;  I  can  take  my  oath  on  the 
taste  of  it.  No,  they  don't  use  it  for  that. 

It  can't  be  for  the  profit  of  it,  for  it  hain't  profitable ; 
quite  the  reverse.  Why,  there  is  about  30  million 
dollars'  worth  raised  in  the  United  States  a  year,  and 
somebody  has  got  to  pay  for  it. 

Why,  I  s'pose  some  poor  men  chew  enough  of  this 
stuff, — chew  it  jest  to  spit  it  out  agin, — and  smoke  it, 
— draw  the  smoke  into  their  mouth  jest  to  blow  it  out 
agin, — why,  I  s'pose  this  proceedin'  costs  'em  enough 
in  ten  or  fifteen  years  to  buy  'em  a  good  little  home. 
And  there  they  are  willin'  to  live  and  die  homeless, 
themselves  and  them  they  love,  jest  for  looks,  jest  to 
try  to  look  pretty. 


HALF-AND-HALF.  337 


For  it  must  be  for  that.  It  can't  be  for  health,  for 
doctors  say  it  hurts  the  health  awfully,  makes  folks 
weak  and  nervious,  and  sometimes  leads  to  blindness 
and  fits. 

It  hain't  for  morals,  for  folks  say,  and  stick  to  it, 
that  it  makes  'em  totter.  Weakens  a  man's  moral 
nature,  his  social  and  religious  faculties,  gives  him  a 
taste  for  the  stronger  stimulent  of  intoxicatin'  drinks, 
and  so  leads  him  down  to  ruin  gradual. 

No,  it  hain't  for  the  morals.  I  have  most  probable 
hit  on  the  right  reason.  But  good  land !  where  the 
beauty  is  in  it  I  can't  see.  But  I  am  a  episodin'  fear 
fully. 

As  I  was  a  sayin',  this  man,  instead  of  beautifyin' 
himself  with  it,  had  jest  spilte  the  looks  of  his  whiskers, 
in  my  eye.  They  looked  yeller  and  nasty.  And  the 
sides  of  his  mouth  was  all  streaked  with  it.  In  some 
places  it  was  sort  o'  dried  on.  He  looked  to  me  as  if 
it  would  do  him  good  to  put  him  asoak  in  weak  lye, 
and  let  him  lay  in  it  2  or  3  days  till  he  got  sweetened 
and  cleansed. 

His  eyes  was  light-colored,  and  the  lids  was  swelled 
and  inflamed  like.  His  mouth  was  drawed  down  into 
a  dretful  sanctimonious  pucker ;  he  had  a  awful  big 
chew  of  tobacco  in  his  mouth,  and  so  it  wasn't  all 
hypocracy  that  drawed  it  down ;  it  was  probable  about 
half  and  half — half  hypocracy  and  half  tobacco.  And 
under  all  the  other  expressions  of  his  face  was  a  dis- 
sipated, bad  look.  I  didn't  like  his  looks  a  mite.  But 


:>3-  "WHAT  ABE  YOU  HERE  FOR?" 

there  be  stood  a  kinder  hangin'  onto  the  table  I, 
out  afterwards  that  he  had  been  drinkin'  all  the  hard 
eider  he  could  to  old  Bobbefses). 
He  asked  me,  in  a  kind  of  a  thick  roice,  f  or  Josiah. 

him  in  a  polite  tone,  though  cool, "  if  he  wouldn't  take 


"I  would,"  aajs  he,  in  that  thick,  husky  roice,  "I 
would  set  down,  mum,  but  I  am  afraid  if  I  should  I 
couldn't  get  up  agin." 

And  he  looked  at  me  in  a  carious,  strange  waj; 
dretfol  wise,  and  yet  foolish  like. 

Says   I,  gazin'  sternly  at  him:  "I  am  afraid  you 

«_  IM.^,         _    <1_;,.L4«.'      m^m  " 

nave  neen  a  onnKin ,  BIT. 

«No!  No!  I  hain't!  eider's  good;  good  for  the 
blood.  Wffl  take  a  ^ass.  if  you  please." 

«Not  here  you  won't,"  says  I  firmly. 

"IH  take  a  glass  if  yon  j&ote,  I  said,''  says  he, 
speakin'  up  kinder  load.  "Oder's  good;  good  for 
the  Wood." 

Says  I:  "It  wffl  he  good  far  your  Mood  if  you  get 
out  of  tins  house  as  quick:  as  you  can.  And  I  would 
lore  to  know,"  says  I,  lookin'  at  him  keenly  orer  my 
specks,  "what  yon  are  here  for,  anyway." 

"I  am  here  in  the  cause  of— cider's  good  for  the 
Mood.  Wfll  take  a  drink." 

Says  I:  "Yon  start  out  of  this  bouse,  or  IT1  call 
Josiah." 

"I  come,  and  I'm  woririn'  for  the  cause  of  religion, 
if  yon  please— and  ITfl  take  a  giaae  of  i^  if  you  please." 


A  PIOUS  BEVERAGE.  339 

He'd  make  a  sort  of  a  drunken  bow,  every  word  or 
two,  and  smiled  sort  o'  foolish,  and  winked  long,  sol- 
emn winks. 

Says  I  sternly :  "  You  act  as  if  you  was  a  workin' 
for  the  cause  of  religion." 

"  Apple-cider's  good.  Hain't  apples  religious,  easy 
entreated?  Hain't  apples  peacible,  long  sufferin'? 
Will  take  a  drink,  if  you  please." 

Says  I,  with  a  awful  dignity :  "  I'd  love  to  see 
myself  givin'  you  anything  to  drink.  You  are  drunk 
as  a  fool  now ;  that  is  what  ails  you." 

"  Cider  hain't  tox-tox-toxicatin';  Bobbetsaid  'twuzn't. 
He  said  his  cider-mill  was  harmless,  easy  'ntreated,  as 
peacible  a  one  as  he  ever  see.  Will  take  a  glass,  if 
you  please.  I  wouldn't  drink  a  tox-tox-toxin'  bevrig, 
not  for  dollar.  Guess  Bobbet  knows  what's  pious 
drink  and  what  hain't.  Cider's  pious  bevrig — called 
so — peacible,  pious  drink." 

"  Pious  drink  ! "  says  I,  sternly.  "  I  have  seen  more 
than  one  man  made  a  fool  and  a  wild  man  by  it,  pious 
or  not.  Oh!"  says  I,  eppisodin'  out  loud  and  eloquent, 
entirely  unbeknown  to  me,  "  how  Satan  must  laugh  in 
his  sleeves  (if  he  wears  sleeves)  to  see  how  good  men 
are  deceived  and  blindered  in  this  matter.  Nothin' 
tickles  Satan  more  than  to  get  a  good  man,  a  church 
member,  to  work  for  him  for  nothin'.  When  he  gets 
good,  conscientious,  Christian  folks  to  tackle  his  work 
of  ruinin'  souls,  unbeknown  to  them,  and  let  him  rest 
off  a  spell, — why  it  tickles  him  most  to  death. 


340  "THE  IMPORTANT  THING." 

"  And  when  anyone  plants  the  first  seeds  of  drunk- 
enness in  a  person,  no  matter  how  good-naturedly  it  is 
done,  no  matter  how  good  the  ones  are  who  do  it,  they 
are  workin'  for  Satan  and  boardin'  themselves,  entirely 
unbeknown  to  them.  That  is,  the  good  ones  are; 
some  know  and  realize  what  they  are  a  doin',  but  keep 
at  it  through  selfishness  and  love  of  gain." 

"Likker's  bad,  wrong;  but  cider's  in'cent,  in'cent  as 
a  babe,  a  prattlin'  little  babe ;  it's  called  so." 

"Good  land!"  says  I,  "do  you  s'pose  I  care  a  cent 
what  a  thing  is  called  ?"  Says  I:  "  I  have  seen  cider 
that  three  glasses  of  it  would  fix  a  man  out  so  he 
couldn't  tell  how  many  childern  he  had,  or  fathers  and 
mothers,  no  more  than  he  could  count  the  stars  in  the 
zodiact.  And  couldn't  walk  straight  and  upright,  no 
more  than  he  could  bump  his  old  head  aginst  the 
moon.  When  a  man  is  dead  what  difference  does  it 
make  to  him  whether  he  died  from  a  shotgun  or 
billerous  colic,  or  was  skairt  to  death  ?  And  what  dif- 
ference does  it  make  when  a  man  is  made  a  fool  of, 
whether  it  is  done  by  one  spunefull  or  a  dozen,  or  a 
quart  ?  The  important  thing  to  him  is,  he  is  a  fool." 

"  Yes,  'n  I'll  take  a  glass  of  cider,  if  you  please." 

I  started  right  straight  for  the  back  stoop  and 
hollered  to  Josiah. 

That  skairt  him.  He  started  kinder  sideways  for 
the  door,  got  holt  of  the  latch,  and  says  he : 

"  I  come  to  labor  with  you,  n'  I  don't  want  to  leave 
you  goin'  the  broad  road  to  destruction;  but  I  will," 


AN  INVITATION  TO  LEAVE. 


341 


says  he,  with  a  simple  sort  of  a  smile,  and  as  foolish 
a  wink  as  I  ever  see  wunk,  "  I  will  if  you'll  give  me  a 
drink  of  cider,  if  you  please." 

Says  I,  firmly,  "  You  will  take  a  broader  road  than 


A  THREATNIN    ATTITUDE. 

you  have  calculated  on,  if  you  don't  clear  out  of  this 
house,  instantly  and  to  once."  And  as  I  still  held  my 
umberell  in  my  hand,  I  held  it  up  in  a  threatnin'  way 
in  my  left  hand,  some  like  a  spear.  And  he  started 
off  and  went  staggeriu'  down  the  road. 

I  was  a  wonderin'  awfully  who  he  was,  and  what  he 
come  for,  when  Miss  Bobbet  come  in  to  bring  home 


342  MISS  BOBBET  UNLOADS. 

a  drawin'  of  tea,  and  she  was  so  full  of  news  that  she 
most  fell  aginst  the  door,  as  wimmen  will  when  they 
are  freighted  too  heavy  with  gossip.  And  she  said  it 
was  Elder  Judas  Wart,  a  Mormon  Elder,  who  had 
come  back  to  Jonesville  again. 

"And,"  says  she,  hurryin'  to  relieve  herself,  for  her 
mind  was  truly  loaded  heavy  with  news  beyond  its 
strength,  "what  do  you  think  now  about  the  Widder 
Bump  bein'  a  Mormon.  I  told  you  she  was  one,  a  year 
ago,  and  other  wimmen  told  you  so,  but  you  would 
stick  to  it  that  she  was  a  camel." 

"Yes,"  says  1,  "in  the  name  of  principle  I  have 
upholded  that  woman  and  called  her  a  camel." 

"  Wall,"  says  she,  "  camel  or  not,  she  was  sealed  to 
Elder  Judas  Wart  last  week.  You  know  she  went 
home  to  her  mother's  in  the  spring.  And  he  has  been 
out  there  all  summer  holdin'  his  meetin's,  and  married 
her. 

"  He  told  us  all  about  it  to-day.  He  said  he  hadn't 
hardly  a  wife  by  him  but  what  was  disabled  in  some 
way  from  workin'.  He  said  he  was  fairly  discouraged. 
Eleven  of  'em  was  took  down  with  the  tyfus,  violent. 
A  few  of  'em,  he  didn't  hardly  know  jest  how  many, 
but  quite  a  number  of  'em,  had  the  chills.  Two  or 
three  of  'em  was  bed-rid.  Four  of  'em  had  young 
babes ;  and  lie  said  he  felt  it  was  not  good  for  man  to 
be  alone,  and  he  needed  a  wife — so  he  married  the 
Widder  Bump  and  sent  her  on  to  Utah  by  express  to 
take  charge  of  things  till  he  come.  He  had  meetin's 
to  Jonesville  last  spring,  and  Bobbet  went  to  'em." 


MISS   BOBBET    TELLS   ABOUT   JOSIA.H. 


MR.  BOBBET  OWNS  UP.  345 

"  Bobbet  went  to  'em,"  says  I,  mechanically.  For 
oh!  what  strange  and  curious  feelin's  was  a  tacklin'  of 
me.  Memeries  of  that  terrible  crysis  in  my  life  when 
I  heard  the  mutterin's  of  a  earthquake,  a  rumblin'  and 
a  roarin'  unbeknown  to  me.  When  everything  in  life 
seemed  uncertain  and  wobblin'  to  a  Samantha,  and  a 
Josiah  talked  in  his  slumbers  of  a  Widder  Bump. 

"  Yes,"  says  she,  "  Bobbet  owned  it  all  up  to  me, 
jest  now.  He  wouldn't,  if  the  Elder  hadn't  come  in 
and  acted  so  glad  to  see  him.  But,  if  you'll  believe  it, 
Bobbet  looked  as  if  he  would  sink  when  he  said  he  had 
married  the  Widder  Bump.  And  he  says  he  hain't 
goin'  to  have  no  new  overcoat  made  this  winter.  And 
he  has  been  sot  on  havin'  one." 

"  Bobbet  owned  it  all  up  to  you,"  says  I,  speakin' 
agin  mechanically,  for  I  felt  fairly  stunted  by  the 
emotions  that  was  rushin'  onto  me. 

"  Yes,  I  remember  he  used  to  go  evenin's  to  Jones- 
ville  a  sight,  last  spring,  when  I  had  the  quinzy  and 
was  laid  up.  But  I  s'posed  he  went  to  the  Methodist 
Conference  meetin's.  But  he  didn't,  he  went  to  hear 
Elder  Judas  Wart.  And  Bobbet  saysr  Josiah  Allen 
went  to  'em,  too." 

At  them  fearful  words  I  groaned  aloud.  I  wouldn't 
say  a  word  aginst  my  pardner.  But  to  save  my  life  I 
couldn't  keep  that  groan  back.  It  fairly  groaned  itself 
(as  it  were),  my  feelin's  wag  such. 

It  was  a  fearful  groan,  deep  and  melancholy  in  the 
extreme.  I  was  determined  to  not  say  one  word  about 
13 


346  FEELIN'  WICKED. 

my  feelin's  concernin'  my  pardner,  and  I  didn't,  only 
jest  that  groan.  She  is  quite  a  case  to  make  mischief 
in  families,  but  she  hain't  got  a  thing  to  carry  from 
me,  only  jest  that  groan.  And  there  can't  be  much 
done,  even  in  a  court  of  law,  with  one  plain  groan,  and 
nothin'  else ;  there  can't  be  much  proved  by  it. 

She  is  a  pry  in'  woman,  and  I  see  she  mistrusted 
sunthin'.  Says  she  : 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Josiah  Allen's  wife  ?  What 
are  you  groanin'  for,  so  heavy  ? "  « 

I  wouldn't  come  right  out  and  tell  the  awful  emo- 
tions that  was  performin'  through  my  mind — and  at 
the  same  time  I  wouldn't  lie.  So  I  broke  out  sort  o' 
eloquent,  and  says  I : 

"  When  I  think  what  female  wimmen  have  suffered, 
and  are  sufferin',  from  this  terrible  sin  of  polygamy,  it 
is  enough  to  make  anybody  groan."  Says  I,  "I  feel 
guilty,  awful  guilty,  to  think  I  hain't  done  sunthin' 
before  now  to  stop  it.  Here  I  have,"  says  I,  growin' 
fearfully  excited,  "here  I  have  jest  sot  down  here,  with 
my  hands  folded  (as  it  were),  and  let  them  doin's  go 
on  without  doin'  a  single  thing  to  break  it  up.  And  it 
makes  me  feel  fairly  wicked  when  I  think  of  that 
address  the  sufferin'  female  wimmen  of  Utah  sent  out 
to  Miss  Hays  and  me." 

"To  Miss  Hays  and  you?"  says  Miss  Bobbet,  in  a 
sort  of  a  jealous  way.  "  I  don't  know  as  it  was  sent 
to  you  special.  It  said  Miss  Hays,  and  the  other  wim- 
men of  the  United  States." 


EMILY  AND  L  347 


"Wall,"  says  I,  "  hain't  I  a  woman,  and  hain't  Jonea- 
ville  right  in  the  very  center  of  the  United  States  ? " 

"Why  yes,"  says  she.  Miss  Bobbet  will  always 
give  up  when  she  is  convinced.  I'll  say  that  for  her. 

"  Wall,"  says  I,  "  that  address  that  they  sent  out  to 
us  was  one  of  the  most  powerful  and  touchin'  appeals 
for  help  ever  sent  out  by  sufferin'  humanity.  And 
here  I  hain't  done  a  thing  about  it,  and  I  don't  believe 
Emily  has." 

"Emily  who?"  says  she. 

"  Why,  Emily  Hays,"  says  I.  "  Rutherford  Hays'es 
wife.  She  that  was  Emily  Webb.  As  likely  a  woman 
as  ever  entered  that  White  House.  A  woman  of  gen- 
tle dignity,  sweet,  womanly  ways,  earnest  Christian 
character,  and  firm  principles.  No  better  or  better- 
loved  woman  has  ever  sot  up  in  that  high  chair  since 
Lady  Washington  got  down  out  of  it.  A  good-lookin' 
woman,  too,"  says  I  proudly.  "  She  has  got  a  fair  face 
and  a  fair  soul.  Her  Christian  example  is  as  pure  and 
clear  as  the  water  she  makes  them  old  congressmen 
drink  to  her  dinner-table,  and  is  as  refreshin',  and  as 
much  of  a  rarity  to  'em.  I  can  tell  you,"  says  I,  "it 
makes  me  and  America  proud,  it  tickles  both  of  us  most 
to  death,  to  think  our  representative  lady  is  one  so 
admirable  in  every  way.  And  foreigners  can  gaze  at 
her  all  they  are  a  mind  to.  We  hain't  afraid  to  let 
'em  peruse  her  through  the  biggest  telescopes  they  can 
get ;  they  won't  find  nothin'  in  her  face  nor  her  nature 
but  what  we  are  proud  of,  both  of  us. 


348 


SLACK  IN  OUR  DUTY. 


"But  in  this  matter  I'll  bet  a  cent  Emily  hain't 
made  a  move,  no  more  than  I  have.  We  have  been 
slack  in  it,  both  on  us.  But  as  for  me,"  says  I  firmly, 
"  I  am  determined  to  be  up  and  a  doin'." 

And  oh!  how  I  sithed  (to  myself)  as  I  thought  it 


A  RARITY  TO    EM.' 


over.  Emily  hadn't  had  the 
fearful  lesson  that  I  had  had. 
Her  pardner's  morals  never 
had  wobbled  round  and  tot- 
tered under  the  pressure  of 
this  pernicious  doctrine,  and 
a  Widder  Bump.  My  sithes 

was  fearful,  as  I  thought  it  over,  but  they  was  inward 
and  silent  ones.  For  my  devotion  to  my  pardner  is 
such  that  I  would  not  give  even  the  testimony  of  a 
sithe  against  my  Josiah. 

When  necessary,  and  occasion  demands  it,  I  scold 
Josiah  myself,  powerful ;  I  have  to.    But  I  will  protect 


WHIPPED  INTO  IT.  349 

him  from  all  other  blame  and  peril,  as  long  as  I  have  a 
breath  left  in  my  lung,  or  a  strength  left  in  my  arm- 
pit. 

But  oh !  what  feelin's  I  felt,  what  deep,  though  silent, 
sithes  I  sithed,  as  I  thought  it  over  to  myself.  How 
the  posy  will  not  give  out  its  perfume ;  will  hang  right 
onto  it  with  its  little,  dainty,  invisible  hands  till  it  is 
trod  on  ;  then  it  gives  it  up — has  to.  And  gold  won't 
drop  a  mite  of  its  dross ;  obstinate,  haughty,  holdin' 
right  onto  it  till  it  is  throwed  into  the  fire,  and  heat 
put  to  it. 

And  to  foller  up  the  simelys,  Josiah  Allen's  wife's 
heart  had  to  be  tried  in  the  fiery  furnace  of  pain  and 
uiortifacture  before  it  would  give  up  and  do  its  duty. 

Oh !  how  my  conscience  smoted  me  as  I  thought  it 
over.  Thought  how  the  hand  of  personal  sufferin'  had 
to  fairly  whip  me  into  the  right.  There  had  hundreds 
and  thousands  of  my  own  sect  been  for  year  after  year 
a  sufferin'  and  a  agonizin'.  Bear  in'  the  heaviest  of 
crosses  with  bleedin'  hands,  and  eyes  so  blinded  with 
tears  they  could  hardly  ketch  a  glimpse  of  the  sweet 
heavens  of  promise  above  'em.  And  how  at  last,  bein' 
fairly  drove  to  it  in  their  despair,  they  writ  to  Emily 
and  me  for  help :  help  to  escape  out  of  the  deeps  of 
personal  and  moral  degradation ;  help  to  rescue  them 
and  the  whole  land  from  barberism  and  ruin.  And 
there  we  hadn't  paid  no  more  attention  to  that  letter 
than  if  it  hadn't  been  wrote  to  us. 

Oh !  how  guilty  I  felt.     I  felt  as  if  I  was  more  to 


350  MEAN!  MEAN! 


blame  than  Emily  was,  for  her  house  was  bigger  than 
mine,  and  she  had  more  to  do.  And  she  hadn't  had 
the  warnin'  I  had.  1  was  the  guilty  one.  In  the 
spring  of  the  year,  and  on  a  Friday  night,  right  up  on 
the  ceilin'  of  our  kitchen  had  those  fearful  words  been 
writ,  jest  as  they  was  in  Bellshazzer'ses  time: 

"Mean!  mean!  tea-kettle!"  and  et  cetery.  Which 
bein'  interpreted  in  various  ways,  held  awful  meanin's 
in  every  one  of  'em.  "Mean!  mean!"  showin'  there 
was  mean  doin's  a  goin'  on;  "tea-kettle!"  showin' 
there  was  bilin'  water  a  heatin'  to  scald  and  torture 
me.  And  takin'  it  all  together  this  awful  meanin' 
could  be  read :  "  Josiah  Allen  is  weighed  in  the  bal- 
lances,  and  is  found  wantin'." 

I  hadn't  heeded  those  fiery  words  of  warnin'.  I  had 
covered  my  eyes,  and  turned  away  from  interpretations 
(as  it  were).  Forebodin's  had  foreboded,  and  1  hadn't 
minded  their  'bodin's.  Forerunners  had  run  right  in 
front  of  me,  and  I  wouldn't  look  at  these  forerunners, 
or  see  'em  run. 

Blind  trust  and  affection  for  a  Josiah  had  blinded 
the  eyes  of  a  Samantha;  but  now,  when  the  truth  was 
brought  to  light  by  a  Miss  Bobbet,  when  1  could  see 
the  awful  danger  that  had  hung  over  me  on  a  Friday 
night  and  in  the  spring  of  the  year,  when  1  could 
almost  hear  the  whizzin'  of  the  fatal  arrow  aimed  at 
my  heart,  my  very  life — now  I  could  realize  how  them 
hearts  felt  where  the  arrows  struck,  where  they  was  a 
quiverin'  and  a  smartin'  and  a  ranklin'. 


'FETCH  HIM  ON!"  351 


Now,  it  felt  a  feelin',  my  heart  did,  that  it  was 
willin',  while  a  throb  of  life  remained  in  it,  to  give  that 
throb  to  them  fellow-sufferers  (fellow-female-sufferers). 
And  when  Miss  Bobbct  said,  jest  as  she  started  for 
home,  that  Elder  Judas  Wart  wanted  to  have  a  talk 
with  me  on  religion  and  mormonism,  I  said,  in  a  loud, 
eloquent  voice : 

"  Fetch  him  on !  Bring  him  to  me  instantly !  and 
let  me  argue  with  him,  and  convert  him." 

I  s'pose  my  tone  and  my  mean  skairt  her,  she  not 
knowin'  what  powerful  performances  had  been  a  per- 
formin'  in  my  mind.  And  I  heard  that  she  went  right 
from  our  house  and  reported  that  I  was  after  the 
Elder.  So  little  is  worldly  judgment  to  be  relied  upon. 
But  nobody  believed  it,  and  if  they  had,  I  shouldn't 
have  cared,  no  more  than  I  should  have  cared  for  the 
murmurin'  of  the  summer  breeze.  When  the  con- 
science is  easy,  the  mind  is  at  rest.  I  knew  there  was 
three  that  knew  the  truth  on't :  the  Lord,  Elder  Judas 
Wart,  and  myself.  I  count  Josiah  and  me  as  one, 
which  is  lawful,  though  Josiah  says  that  I  am  the  one 
the  biggest  heft  of  the  time.  He  said  "  he  made  cal- 
culations when  he  married  me,  when  we  was  jined 
together  as  one,  that  he  would  be  that  one." 

And  I  told  him,  "  Man's  calculations  was  blindin', 
and  oft  deceivin'." 

I  said  it  in  a  jokin'  way.  I  let  him  be  the  "  one  "  a 
good  deal  of  the  time,  and  he  knows  it. 

But,  as  I  was  a  sayin',  them  three  that  knew  it  was 


352 


;NOT  AT  ALL  SWEET.' 


all  that  was  necessary  to  my  comfort  and  peace  of 
mind. 

Josiali  looked  sad  and  depressted,  and  I  knew,  for  I 
see  old  Bobbet  leanin'  over  the  barnyard  fence  while  he 


BOBBET  AND  J08IAH  TALKIN  . 

was  a  milkin',  and  I  knew  they  had  been  talkin'  over 
the  news.  And  when  he  come  in  with  his  second  pail- 
full  of  milk,  lookin'  so  extra  depressted,  my  mean  was 
some  colder,  probable  about  like  ice  cream,  only  not 
sweet ;  no,  not  at  all  sweet — quite  the  reverse. 

After  Miss  Bobbet's  departure,  the  night  that  ensued 
and  followed  on  was  fearful  and  agonizin'.     What  to 


GORING  EMOTIONS.  353 

do  with  Josiah  Allen  I  knew  not.  But  I  made  my 
mind  up  not  to  tackle  him  on  the  subject  then,  but 
wait  till  I  was  more  calm  and  composed  down.  I  also 
thought  I  would  do  better  to  take  the  daylight  to  it. 
So  I  treated  him  considerable  the  same  as  my  common 
rim  of  treatment  towards  him  was,  only  a  little  more 
cool — not  cold  as  ice,  but  coolish. 

But  oh !  what  emotions  goared  me  that  night,  as  I 
lay  on  my  goose-feather  pillow,  with  Josiah  by  my  side 
a  groanin'  in  his  sleep  frequent  and  mournful.  He 
couldn't  keep  awake,  that  man  couldn't,  not  if  all  the 
plagues  of  Egypt  was  a  plaguin'  him,  as  I  often 
remarked  to  him. 

But  while  such  emotions  was  a  performiii'  in  my 
mind,  there  wuzn't  no  sleep  for  me.  Some  of  the  time 
I  was  mad  at  Josiah  Allen,  and  then  agin  I  was  mad 
at  the  Government.  Some  of  the  time  I  would  feel 
indignant  at  Josiah,  clear  Josiah ;  and  then  agin,  as 
he  would  sithe  out  loud  and  heart-breakin'  sithes,  my 
affection  for  him  would  rise  up  powerful,  and  I  would 
say  to  myself — oritorin'  eloquent  right  there  in  the 
dead  of  the  night — "  Why  should  I  lay  all  the  blame 
of  a  pernicious  system  onto  my  sufferin'  pardner? 
Human  nater  is  weak  and  prone  to  evil,  especially  man 
human  nater,  which  is  proner.  And  when  Government 
keeps  such  abysses  for  men  to  walk  off  of,  and  break 
their  necks  (morally),  who  should  be  scolded  the  most 
— them  men  after  their  necks  are  broke,  or  the  ones 

who  dug  the  abysses,  or  let  'em  be  dug  ? 
13* 


354  A  RANKLING  SIN. 

"Let  this  band  of  banditty  flourish  on  shore — furn- 
ished land  for  'em  to  flourish  on — and  furnished  ships 
to  go  out  over  the  ocian  and  hunt  round  for  foreign 
souls  to  ruin.  Who  calmly  looked  on  and  beheld  its 
ships  bear  to  our  shores  hundreds  and  thousands  of 
the  ignorant  peasantry  of  the  old  world — fair-faced 
Swedish  and  Danish  maidens,  blue-eyed  German  girls, 
and  bright  English  and  Irish  lassies — lookin'  with 
innocent,  wonderin'  eyes  toward  a  new  life — innocent 
youth,  deceived  by  specious  falsehoods,  pourin'  onto 
our  shores  like  pure  rills  of  water,  to  fall  into  that 
muddy  gulf  of  corruption  and  become  putrid  also — 
and  our  Government  lookin'  calmly  on,  happy  as  a 
king,  and  pretendin'  to  be  religious." 

I  declare!  as  I  thought  it  all  over,  I  was  as  mad 
with  the  Government  as  I  was  with  my  pardner,  and  I 
don't  know  but  madder. 

Scolded,  Josiah  Allen  had  got  to  be — that  I  knew. 
But  I  hankered,  1  hankered  awfully,  right  there  in  the 
dead  of  the  night,  to  tackle  the  Government,  too,  and 
scold  it  fearfully.  I  felt  that  I  must  be  up  and  a  doin'. 
1  yearned  to  tackle  Elder  Judas  Wart,  and  argue  with 
him  with  a  giant  strength.  But  little  did  1  think  that 
in  a  few  days  1  should  be  a  doin'  of  it. 


A  SERENADING-  EPISODE,  &c. 

THESE  verses  of  Betsey's  come  out  in  the  last 
week's    G-imlet,  and  I  call   it    foolish    stuff. 
Though  (on  measurin'  'em  in  a  careless  way  with  a 
yard-stick)  I  found  the  lines  was  pretty  nigh  of  a  equal 
length,  and  so  I  s'pose  it  would  be  called  poetry. 

A  WIFE'S  STORY. 

Oh  Gimlet !  back  again  I  float, 

With  broken  wings,  a  weary  bard; 
I  cannot  write  as  once  I  wrote, 

I  have  to  work  so  very  hard; 
So  hard  my  lot,  so  tossed  about, 
My  muse  is  fairly  tuckered  out. 


My  muse  aforesaid  once  hath  flown, 

But  now  her  back  is  broke,  and  breast; 
And  yet  she  fain  would  crumple  down ; 

On  Gimlet  pages  she  would  rest, 
And  sing  plain  words  as  there  she's  sot- 
Haply  they'll  rhyme,  and  haply  not. 

(355) 


356  BETSEY'S  LAMENT. 

I  spake  plain  words  in  former  days, 
No  guile  I  showed,  clear  was  my  plan; 

My  gole  it  matrimony  was; 
My  earthly  aim  it  was  a  man. 

I  gained  my  man,  I  won  my  gole; 

Alas  !  I  feel  not  as  I  f ole. 

Yes,  ringing  through  my  maiden  thought 
This  clear  voice  rose:  "Oh  come  up  higher. 

To  speak  plain  truth,  with  candor  fraught, 
To  married  be  was  my  desire. 

Now,  sweeter  still  this  lot  shall  seem, 

To  be  a  widder  is  my  theme. 

For  toil  hath  claimed  me  for  her  own, 
In  wedlock  I  have  found  no  ease ; 

I've  cleaned  and  washed  for  neighbors  round, 
And  took  my  pay  in  beans  and  pease ; 

In  boiling  sap  no  rest  I  took, 

Or  husking  corn,  in  barn,  and  shock. 

Or  picking  wool  from  house  to  house, 
White-washing,  painting,  papering; 

In  stretching  carpets,  boiling  souse ; 
E'en  picking  hops,  it  hath  a  sting, 

For  spiders  there  assembled  be, 

Mosquitoes,  bugs,  and  etc. 

I  have  to  work,  oh !  very  hard ; 

Old  Toil,  I  know  your  breadth  and  length ; 
I'm  tired  to  death,  and,  in  one  word, 

I  have  to  work  beyond  my  strength. 
And  mortal  men  are  very  tough 
To  get  along  with, — hasty,  rough. 


OLD    TOIL  S   BRIDE. 


BETSEY'S  LAMENT. 


Yes,  tribulation's  doomed  to  her 
Who  weds  a  man,  without  no  doubt. 

In  peace  a  man  is  singuler; 
His  ways  they  are  past  findin'  out. 

And  oh  !  the  wrath  of  mortal  males  — 

To  point  their  ire,  earth's  language  fails. 

And  thirteen  children  in  our  home 
Their  buttons  rend,  their  clothes  they  burst, 

Much  bread  and  such  do  they  consume  ; 
Of  children  they  do  seem  the  worst. 

And  Simon  and  I  do  disagree; 

He's  prone  to  sin  continuallee. 

He  horrors  has,  he  oft  doth  kick, 
He  prances,  yells,  —  he  will  not  work. 

Sometimes  I  think  he  is  too  sick  ; 
Sometimes  I  think  he  tries  to  shirk. 

But  'tis  hard  for  her,  in  either  case, 
Who  B.  Bobbet  was  in  happier  days. 

Happier?    Away!  such  thoughts  I  spurn. 

I  count  it  true,  from  spring  to  fall, 
'Tis  better  to  be  wed,  and  groan, 

Than  never  to  be  wed  at  all. 
I'd  work  my  hands  down  to  the  bone 
Rather  than  rest  a  maiden  lone. 

This  truth  I  will  not,  cannot  shirk, 

I  feel  it  when  I  sorrow  most: 
I'd  rather  break  my  back  with  work, 

And  haggard  look  as  any  ghost,  — 
Rather  than  lonely  vigils  keep, 
I'd  wed  and  sigh,  and  groan  and  weep. 


360  BETSEY'S  LAMENT. 

Yes,  I  can  say,  though  tears  fall  quick, 
Can  say,  while  briny  tear-drops  start, 

I'd  rather  wed  a  crooked  stick 
Than  never  wed  no  stick  at  all. 

Sooner  than  laughed  at  be,  as  of  yore, 
I'd  rather  laugh  myself  no  more. 

I'd  rather  go  half-clad  and  starved, 
And  mops  and  dish-cloths  madly  wave. 

Than  have  the  words  "B.  Bobbet"  carved 
On  headstun  rising  o'er  my  grave. 

Proud  thought!  now,  when  that  stun  is  risen, 

'Twill  bear  two  names— my  name  and  hisen. 

Methinks  'twould  colder  make  the  stun 
If  but  one  name,  the  name  of  she, 

Should  linger  there  alone — alone. 
How  different  when  the  name  of  he 

Does  also  deck  the  funeral  urn ; 

Two  wedded  names,— his  name  and  hum. 

And  sweeter  yet,  oh  blessed  lot! 

Oh  state  most  dignified  and  blest  I 
To  be  a  widder,  calmly  sot, 

And  have  both  dignity  and  rest. 
Oh,  Simon!  strangely  sweet  'twould  be 
To  be  a  widder  unto  thee. 

The  warfare  past,  the  horrors  done, 
With  maiden's  ease  and  pride  of  wifs^ 

The  dignity  of  wedded  one, 
The  calm  and  peace  of  single  life, — 

Oh,  strangely  sweet  this  lot  doth  i 

A  female  widder  i*  mj  theme. 


BETSEY'S  LAMENT.  361 

I  would  not  hurt  a  hair  of  he, 

Yet,  did  he  from  earth's  toils  escape, 

I  could  most  reconciled  be, 

Could  sweetly  mourn,  e'en  without  crape , 

Could  say,  without  a  pang  of  pain, 

That  Simon's  loss  was  Betsey's  gain. 

I've  told  the  plain  tale  of  my  woes, 
With  no  deceit,  or  language  vain, 
Have  told  whereon  my  hopes  are  rose, 
Have  sung  my  mournful  song  of  pain. 
And  now  I  e'en  will  end  my  tale, 
I've  sung  my  song,  and  wailed  my  waiL 

/have  made  a  practice  of  callin'  that  Poetry,  bein' 
one  that  despises  envy  and  jealousy  amongst  female 
authoresses.  No,  you  never  ketch  me  at  it,  bein'  one 
that  would  sooner  help  'em  up  the  ladder  than  upset 
'em,  and  it  is  ever  my  practice  so  to  do.  But  truth 
must  be  spoke  if  subjects  are  brung  up.  Uronious 
views  must  be  condemned  by  Warriors  of  the  Right, 
whether  ladders  be  upset  or  stand  firm  on  their  legs — 
poetesses  also. 

I  felt  that  this  poetry  attacted  a  tender  subject,  a 
subject  dearer  to  me  than  all  the  world  besides — the 
subject  of  Josiah.  Josiah  is  a  man. 

And  I  say  it,  and  I  say  it  plain,  that  men  hain't  no 
such  creeters  as  she  tries  to  make  out  they  be.  Men 
are  first-rate  creeters  in  lots  of  things,  and  are  as  good 
as  wimmen  be  any  day  of  the  week. 

Of  course  I  agree  with  Betsey,  that  husbands  are 
tryin'  in  lots  of  things  ;  they  need  a  firm  hand  to  the 
helium  to  guide  'em  along  through  the  tempestuous 


CURIOUS,  VAIN,  AND  TEJUS. 


waves  of  married  life,  and  get  along  with  'em.  They 
are  lots  of  trouble,  but  then  I  think  they  pay  after  all. 
Why,  I  wouldn't  swap  my  Josiah  for  the  best  house 
and  lot  in  Jonesville,  or  the  crown  of  the  Widder 
Albert.  I  love  Josiah  Allen.  And  I  don't  know  but 
the  very  trouble  he  has  caused  me  makes  me  cling 
closer  to  him.  You  know  the  harder  a  horse's  head 
beats  aginst  burdock  burs  the  tighter  the  burdocks  will 
cling  to  its  mane.  Josiah  makes  me  sights  of  trouble, 
but  I  cling  to  him  closely. 

I  admit  that  men  are  curious  creeters,  and  very  vain, 
and  they  hain't  willin'  to  let  well  enough  alone.  They 
over-do,  and  go  beyond  all  sense  and  reason.  A 
instance  of  these  two  strong  traits  of  their's  has  jest 
occurred  and  took  place,  which,  as  a  true  historian 
rclatin'  solemn  facts,  I  will  relate  in  this  epistol. 

Yes,  men  are  tejus  creeters  a  good  deal  of  the  tim^ 
But  then  agin,  so  be  wimmen,  jest  as  tejus,  and  I  don't 
know  but  tejuser.  I  believe  my  soul,  if  I  had  got  to 
be  born  agin,  I  had  jest  as  lieves  be  born  a  man  as  a 
woman,  and  I  don't  know  but  I  drather. 

No,  1  don't  think  one  sect  ort  to  boast  over  the  other 
one.  They  are  both  about  equally  foolish  and  disa- 
greeable, and  both  have  their  goodnesses  and  nobilities, 
and  both  ort  to  have  their  rights. 

Now  I  hain't  one  to  set  up  and  say  men  hadn't  ort 
to  vote,  that  they  don't  know  enough,  and  hain't  good 
enough,  and  so  forth  and  so  on.  No,  you  don't  ketch 
me  at  it.  I  am  one  that  stands  up  for  justice  and 
reason. 


FIXIN'  THINGS. 


363 


Now,  the  other  day  a  wild-eyed  woman,  with  short 
hair,  who  goes  round  a  lecturin'  on  wimmen's  rights, 
come  to  see  me,  a  tryin'  to  inviggle  me  into  a  plot  to 
keep  men  from  votin'.  Says  she,  "The  time  is  a 

drawin'  near  when 
wimmen  are  a  goin' 
to  vote,  without  no 
doubt." 

"Amen  ! "  says  I. 
"  I  can  say  amen  to 
that  with  my  hull 
heart  and  soul." 

"And  then,"  says 
she, "  when  the  staff 
is  in  our  own  hands, 
less  we  wimmen  all 
put  in  together  and 
try  to  keep  men 
from  votin'." 

"Never!  "says  I, 
"  never  will  you  get 
me  into  such  a 
scrape  as  that," 
says  I.  "Men  have 
jest  exactly  as  good  a  right  to  vote  as  wimmen  have. 
They  are  condemned,  and  protected,  and  controlled  by 
the  same  laws  that  wimmen  are,  and  so  of  course  are 
equally  interested  in  makin'  'em.  And  I  won't  hear 
another  word  of  such  talk.  You  needn't  try  to  invig- 


TIIE  WILD-EYED  WOALAfl. 


364  RESISTING  TEMPTATION. 

gle  me  into  no  plot  to  keep  men  from  votin',  for  jus- 
tice is  ever  my  theme,  and  also  Josiah." 

Says  she,  bitterly,  "  I'd  love  to  make  these  miserable 
sneaks  try  it  once,  and  see  how  they  would  like  it,  to 
have  to  spend  their  property,  and  be  hauled  around, 
and  hung  by  laws  they  hadn't  no  hand  in  makin'." 

But  I  still  says,  with  marble  firmness,  "  Men  have 
jest  as  good  a  right  to  vote  as  wimmen  have.  And 
you  needn't  try  to  inviggle  me  into  no  such  plans,  for 
I  won't  be  inviggled." 

And  so  she  stopped  invigglin',  and  went  off. 

And  then  again  in  Betsey's  poetry  (though  as  a 
neighbor  and  a  female  author  I  never  would  speak  a 
word  aginst  it,  and  what  I  say  I  say  as  a  warrior,  and 
would  wish  to  be  so  took)  I  would  say  in  kindness, 
and  strictly  as  a  warrior,  that  besides  the  deep  under- 
current of  foolishness  that  is  runnin'  through  it,  there 
is  another  thought  that  I  deeply  condemn.  Betsey  sot 
out  in  married  life  expectin'  too  much.  Now,  she 
didn't  marry  in  the  right  way,  and  so  she  ort  to  have 
expected  tougher  times  than  the  usual  run  of  married 
females  ort  to  expect;  more  than  the  ordinary  tribu- 
lations of  matrimony.  But  she  didn't ;  she  expected 
too  much. 

And  it  won't  do  to  expect  too  much  in  this  world, 
anyway.  If  you  can  only  bring  your  mind  down  to  it, 
it  is  a  sight  better  to  expect  nothing,  and  then  you 
won't  be  disappointed  if  you  get  it,  as  you  most  prob- 
able will.  And  if  you  get  something  it  will  be  a  joy- 


SURE  COMPANIONS.  365 


ful  surprise  to  you.  But  there  are  few  indeed  who  has 
ever  sot  down  on  this  calm  hite  of  filosify. 

Folks  expect  too  much.  As  many  and  many  times 
as  their  hopes  have  proved  to  be  uronious,  they 
think,  well  now,  if  I  only  had  that  certain  thing,  or 
was  in  that  certain  place,  I  should  be  happy.  But 
they  hain't.  They  find  when  they  reach  that  certain 
gole,  and  have  clim  up  and  sot  down  on  it,  they'll  find 
that  somebody  has  got  onto  the  gole  before  'em,  and  is 
there  a  settin'  on  it.  No  matter  how  spry  anybody 
may  be,  they'll  find  that  Sorrow  can  climb  faster  than 
they  can,  and  can  set  down  on  goles  quicker.  Yes, 
they'll  find  her  there. 

It  hain't  no  matter  how  easy  a  seat  anybody  sets 
down  in  in  this  world,  they'll  find  that  they'll  have  to 
hunch  along,  and  let  Disappointment  set  down  with 
'em,  and  Anxiety,  and  Weariness,  and  et  cetery,  et  eat- 
ery. 

Now,  the  scholar  thinks  if  he  can  only  stand  up  on 
that  certain  hite  of  scientific  discovery,  he  will  be 
happy,  for  he  will  know  all  that  he  cares  about  or 
wants  to.  But  when  he  gets  up  there,  he'll  see  plain; 
for  the  higher  he  is  riz  above  the  mists  of  ignorance 
that  floats  around  the  lower  lands,  the  clearer  his 
vision ;  and  he  will  see  another  peak  right  ahead  of 
him,  steeper  and  loftier  and  icier  than  the  last,  and  so 
on  ad  infinitum,  ad  infinity. 

Jest  as  it  was  with  old  Miss  Peedick,  our  present 
Miss  Peedick's  mother-in-law.  She  said  (she  told  me 


366  THE  NEEDFUL  THING. 

with  her  own  lips)  that  she  knew  she  should  be  happy 
when  she  got  a  glass  butter-dish.  But  she  said  she 
wasn't;  she  told  me  with  her  own  lips  that  jest  as 
quick  as  she  got  that  she  wanted  a  sugar-bowl. 

The  lover  thinks  when  he  can  once  claim  his  sweet- 
heart, call  her  his  own,  he  will  be  blessed  and  content; 
but  he  hain't.  No  matter  how  well  he  loves  her,  no 
matter  how  fond  she  is  of  him,  and  how  blest  they  are 
in  each  other's  love,  they  must  think,  anyway,  that  the 
blessedness  lacks  one  thing — permanence. 

And  though  he  calls  her  his  own,  yet  he  must  feel, 
if  he  knows  anything,  that  she  is  not  his  own ;  he  must 
know  that  he  has  to  dispute  for  the  possession  of  her 
daily  with  one  stronger  than  he  is.  And  if  he  is  ten- 
der-hearted and  sensitive,  the  haunting  fear  must 
almost  rack  his  soul ;  the  horrible  dread  of  seeing  her 
slip  away  from  him  altogether ;  of  sometime  reaching 
out  his  arms,  and  finding  that  nowhere,  nowhere  can 
he  find  her;  that  in  place  of  her  warm,  beating  heart, 
whose  every  throb  was  full  of  love  for  him,  is  only  the 
vacant  spaces,  the  mysterious  wave-beats  of  emptyness 
and  void;  in  place  of  the  tender  sweetness  of  her 
voice,  the  everlasting  silences  of  eternity. 

And  though  he  seek  her  forever  and  forever,  he  can 
never  meet  her ;  never,  never,  through  all  this  earthly 
life,  find  her  again.  She,  the  nearest  and  the  dearest, 
so  lately  a  part  of  his  own  life,  his  own  soul,  gone  from 
him  so  swiftly  and  so  utterly,  over  such  a  trackless 
road,  as  to  leave  no  trace  of  her  footsteps  that  lie  may 


NO  ANSWER. 


367 


follow  her.  And  though  he  throw  himself  upon  the 
turf  that  covers  her,  and  weary  the  calm  heavens  with 
his  wild  prayers  and  questionings,  no  answer  comes ; 


NO  ANSWER. 

his  words  fall  back  again  upon  his  heart,  like  dust  upon 
dust. 

And  then,  those  who  love  him  tell  him  that  the  lov- 
ing hands  were  unclasped  from  his  that  he  might 
forever  reach  upward,  yearning,  longing  to  clasp  them 
again,  that  he  might  make  his  own  hands  purer,  fitter 
to  clasp  an  angel's  fingers. 


368  A  DAILY  LOSS. 


That  the  bright  tresses  were  hidden  away  under  the 
coffin-lid,  that  their  immortal  sheen  might  gleam 
through  every  sunset  and  every  dawning;  heaven's 
golden  seal  on  the  sunset  of  his  joy,  the  morning  of 
his  hope,  his  faith.  That  the  sweet  eyes  were  dark- 
ened here  that  they  might  become  to  his  sad  heart  the 
glowing  light  of  the  future.  They  say  this  to  him,  and 
he  listens  to  them — maybe. 

But  if  this  does  not  happen  to  him,  if  his  sweetheart 
lives  on  beside  him,  he  finds  that  this  mighty  presence 
steals  away — not  love,  for  that  is  a  bit  of  the  infinite 
dropped  down  into  our  souls  unbeknown  to  us,  and  so 
is  immortal ;  but  he  steals  the  golden  sheen  of  the 
hair,  the  eye's  bright  luster,  the  young  form's  strength 
and  rounded  beauty.  Every  day,  every  hour,  he  is 
losing  something  of  what  he  proudly  called  his  own. 

You  see  we  don't  own  much  of  anything  in  this 
world  :  it's  curious,  but  so  it  is.  And  what  we  call  our 
own  don't  belong  to  us,  not  at  all.  That  is  one  of  the 
things  that  makes  this  such  an  extremely  curious  world 
to  live  in.  Yes,  we  are  situated  extremely  curious,  as 
much  so  as  the  robins  and  swallows  who  build  their 
nests  on  the  waving  tree-boughs. 

We  smile  at  the  robin,  with  our  wise,  amused  pity, 
who  builds  her  tiny  nest  with  such  laborious  care  high 
up,  out  on  the  waving  tree-top,  swinging  back  and 
forth,  back  and  forth,  in  every  idle  wind.  Gathering 
her  straws  and  bits  of  wood  witli  such  patient  and  tire- 
less care  to  weave  about  the  frail  homes  that  are  to  be 


STICKS  AND  STRAWS.  369 

blown  away  by  the  chilly  autumn  winds,  and  they  also 
to  be  driven  southward  before  the  snows. 

But  are  not  our  homes,  the  sweet  homes  of  our 
tenderest  love,  built  upon  just  as  insecure  foundations, 
hanging  over  more  mysterious  depths,  rocking  to  and 
fro,  and  swept  to  their  ruin  by  a  breath  from  the 
Unknown?  Our  dreams,  our  hopes,  our  ambitions: 
what  are  ye  all  but  the  sticks  and  straws  that  we  weave 
about  our  frail  nests  ?  Throwing  our  whole  hearts  and 
souls  into  them,  toiling  over  them,  building  them  for 
an  evanescent  summer,  to  be  swept  away  by  the 
autumn  winds.  And  we  also,  poor  voyagers,-  blown 
away  through  a  pathless  waste. 

But  shall  we  not  go  unfearing,  believing  that  He 
who  made  a  balmy  south  to  fulfill  the  little  summer 
bird's  intuition,  her  blind  hope  and  trust,  has  also  pre- 
pared a  place  to  fulfill  our  deathless  longin's,  our  soul's 
strongest  desires  ?  And  over  the  lonely  way,  the 
untried,  desolate  fields  of  the  future,  He  will  gently 
guide  us  thither. 

But  I  am  eppisodin'.  I  said  I  would  relate  in  this 
epistol  a  instance  of  the  devourin'  and  insatiable  vanity 
of  man,  and  their  invincible  unwillingness  to  let  well 
enough  alone.  And  so,  although  it  is  gaulin'  to  me, 
gaulin'  in  the  extreme,  to  speak  of  my  companion's 
weaknesses,  yet,  if  medicine  was  not  spread  before 
patients,  how  could  colic  be  cured,  and  cramps,  and 
etcetery  ? 

Yes,  in  the  name  of  Duty,  as  a  warnin'  to  the  sect, 


370 


AN  ILLUSTRIOUS  INDIVIDUAL. 


dear  to  me  (in  a  meetin'-house  way)  for  his  sake  of 
whom  I  write,  I  will  proceed,  and  give  a  plain  and 
unvarnished  history  of  Josiah's  serenade. 

Eliab  Gansey,  or  E.  Wellington  Gansey,  as  he  has 


E.   WELLINGTON  GANSET. 

rote  his  name  for  years,  has  been  here  to  Jonesville  on 
a  visit.  He  lives  to  the  Ohio.  He  is  jest  about 
Josiah's  age,  and  used  to  be  a  neighbor  of  his'n.  He 
was  born  here,  and  lived  round  here  till  he  got  to  be  a 
young  man.  But  he  went  to  the  Ohio  to  live  when 


A  REAL  COMMOTION.  371 

he  was  quite  a  young  chap,  and  made  money  fast, 
and  got  high  in  station.  Why,  some  say  he  got 
as  high  as  clerk  to  town  meetin' ;  I  don't  know  about 
that,  but  we  do  know  that  he  got  to  be  a  real  big  man 
anyway,  and  come  home  here  on  a  visit,  forehanded 
and  weighin'  over  300.  He  was  slim  as  a  lucifer 
match  when  he  went  away,  or  a  darnin'-needle. 

Wall,  his  comin'  back  as  he  did  made  a  real  commo- 
tion and  stir  in  the  neighberhood.  The  neigh bers  all 
wanted  to  do  sunthin'  to  honor  him,  and  make  him 
happy,  and  we  all  sort  o'  clubbed  together  and  got  up 
a  party  for  him,  got  as  good  a  dinner  as  ever  Jonesville 
afforded,  and  held  it  in  old  Squire  Gausey's  dinin'- 
room.  He  was  cousin  to  Liab  on  his  father's  side, 
and  had  a  big  house  and  lived  alone,  and  urged  us  to 
have  the  party  there. 

Wall,  I  approved  of  that  dinner,  and  did  all  I  could 
to  help  it  along.  Talked  encouragin'  about  it  to  all 
the  neighberin'  wimmen,  and  baked  two  chicken-pies, 
and  roasted  s  duck,  and  other  vittles  accordin'. 

And  the  di  iner  was  a  great  success.  Liab  seemed 
to  enjoy  himself  dretfully,  and  eat  more  than  was  for 
his  good,  and  so  did  Josiah ;  I  told  Josiah  so  after- 
wards. 

Wall,  we  had  that  dinner  for  him,  all  together  (as  it 
were).  And  then  we  all  of  us  invited  him  to  our  own 
homes  seperate,  to  dinner  or  supper,  as  the  case  might 
be.  We  used  him  first-rate,  and  he  appreciated  it, 
that  man  did,  and  he  would  have  gone  home  feelin' 
14 


372  THE  MAKIN'  OF  JONESVILLE. 

perfectly  delighted  with  our  treatment  of  him,  and 
leavin'  us  feelin'  first-rate,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Josiah 
Allen,  if  he  had  been  willin'  to  take  my  advice  and  let 
well  enough  alone.  And  what  a  happyfyin'  thing  that 
is,  if  folks  would  only  realize  it,  happyfyin'  to  the  folks 
that  let  well  enough  alone,  and  happyfyin'  to  them  that 
are  let. 

But  some  are  bound  to  over-do  and  go  beyond  all 
sense  and  reason.  And  Josiah  wasn't  contented  with 
what  he  had  done  for  Liab,  but  wanted  to  do  more — he 
was  bound  to  serenade  him.  I  argued  and  argued 
with  him,  and  tried  to  get  the  idee  out  of  his  head,  but 
the  more  I  argued  aginst  the  idee,  the  more  firm  he 
was  sot  onto  it. 

He  said  it  stood  Jonesville  in  hand  to  treat  that 
man  to  all  the  honors  they  could  heap  onto  him.  And 
then  he  told  me  sunthin'  that  I  hadn't  heard  on  before; 
that  Liab  talked  some  of  comin'  back  here  to  live  :  he 
was  so  pleased  with  his  old  neighbors,  they  had  all 
used  him  so  well,  and  seemed  to  think  so  much  of 
him. 

"  And,"  says  Josiah, "  it  will  be  the  makin'  of  Jones- 
ville  if  he  comes  back  ;  and  of  me,  too,  for  he  talks  of 
buyin'  my  west  lot  for  a  house-lot,  and  he  has  offered 
me  4  times  what  it  is  worth,  of  his  own  accord, — that 
$8,  if  he  makes  up  his  mind  to  come  back." 

"Wall,"  says  I,  "you  wouldn't  take  advantage  of 
him,  and  take  4  times  what  it  is  worth,  would  you?" 
Says  I  sternly:  " If  you  do  you  won't  never  prosper  in 
your  undertaking." 


BOUND  TO  HAVE  A  SERENADE.      378 

"He  offered  it  himself,"  says  Josiah.  "I  didn't  set 
no  price;  he  sot  it  himself.  And  it  wouldn't  be  no 
cheatin',  nor  nothin'  out  of  the  way,  to  take  it,  and  I 
would  take  it  with  a  easy  conscience  and  a  willin' 
mind.  But  the  stick  is,"  says  he  dreamily,  "the  stick 
is  to  get  him  to  come  back.  He  likes  us  now,  and  if 
ve  can  only  endear  ourselves  to  him  a  little  mite  more 
he  will  come.  And  I  am  goin'  to  work  for  it;  I  am 
bound  to  serenade  him." 

Says  I  coldly :  "  If  you  want  to  endear  yourself  to 
him  you  are  goin'  to  work  in  the  wrong  way."  And 
says  I,  still  more  frigidly  :  "  Was  you  a  layin'  out  to 
sing  yourself,  Josiah  Allen  ? " 

"Yes,"  says  he,  in  a  animated  way.  "The  way  I 
thought  of  workin'  it  was  to  have  about  8  of  us  old 
men,  who  used  to  be  boys  with  him,  get  together  and 
sing  some  affectin'  piece  under  his  winder;  make  up  a 
piece  a  purpose  for  him.  And  I  don't  know  but  we 
might  let  some  wimmen  take  a  hand  in  it.  Mebby  you 
would  want  to,  Samantha." 

"No  sir!"  says  I  very  coldly.  "You  needn't  make 
no  calculations  on  me.  I  shall  have  no  hand  in  it  at 
all.  And,"  says  I  firmly,  "if  you  know  what  is  best 
for  yourself,  Josiah  Allen,  you  will  give  up  the  idee. 
You  will  see  trouble  if  you  don't." 

"  Wall,  I  s'pose  it  will  be  some  trouble  to  us  ;  but  I 
am  willin'  to  take  trouble  to  please  Liab,  as  I  know  it 
will.  Why,  if  I  can  carry  it  out,  as  I  think  we  can, 
it  will  tickle  that  man  most  to  death.  Why,  I'll  bet 


374  A  DEEP  FACT. 


after  hearin'  us  sing,  as  we  shall  sing,  you  couldn't  dog 
him  from  Jonesville.  And  it  will  be  the  makin'  of  the 
place  if  we  can  only  keep  him  here,  and  will  put  more 
money  into  my  pocket  than  I  have  seen  for  one  spell. 
And  I  know  we  can  sing  perfectly  beautiful,  if  we  only 
set  out  to.  I  can  speak  for  myself,  anyway ;  I  am  a 
crackin'  good  singer,  one  of  the  best  there  is,  if  I  only 
set  out  to  do  my  best." 

Oh !  what  a  deep  streak  of  vanity  runs  through  the 
naters  of  human  men.  As  many  times  as  it  had  been 
proved  right  out  to  his  face  that  he  couldn't  sing  no 
more  than  a  ginny-hen,  or  a  fannm'-mill,  that  man 
still  kep'  up  a  calm  and  perennial  idee  that  he  was  a 
sweet  singer. 

Yes,  it  is  a  deep  scientific  fact,  as  I  have  often  re- 
marked to  Josiah  Allen,  that  the  spring  of  vanity  that 
gushes  up  in  men's  naters  can't  be  clogged  up  and 
choked.  It  is  a  gushin'  fountain  that  forever  bubbles 
over  the  brink  with  perennial  and  joyful  freshness. 
No  matter  how  many  impediments  you  may  put  in  its 
way,  no  matter  how  many  hard  stuns  of  disappoint- 
ment and  revilin'  and  agony  you  may  throw  into  that 
fountain,  it  won't  do  no  more  than  to  check  the  foamin' 
current  for  a  moment.  But  presently,  or  sometimes 
even  before  that,  the  irrepressible  fountain  will  soar 
up  as  foamin'ly  as  ever. 

As  many  times,  and  times  agin,  as  Josiah's  vanity 
had  been  trampled  on  and  beat  down  and  stunned,  yet 
how  constant  and  elear  it  was  a  bubblin'  up  and  mean- 


LUCKY  FOR  THE  POET&         375 

derin'  right  before  my  sight.  And  before  I  had  got 
through  allegorin'  in  my  own  mind  about  the  curious 
and  scientific  subject,  he  gave  me  another  proof  of  it. 

Says  he :  "I  don't  want  you  to  think,  Samantha,  be- 
cause I  said  I  didn't  know  but  we  would  let  wimmen 
have  a  hand  in  it,  I  don't  want  you  to  think  that  we 
want  any  help  in  the  singin'.  We  don't  want  any  help 
in  the  singin',  and  don't  need  any;  but  I  didn't  know 
but  you  would  want  to  help  compose  some  poetry  on 
Liab.  Not  but  what  we  could  do  it  first-rate,  but  its  a 
kind  o'  busy  time  of  year,  and  a  little  help  might  come 
good  on  that  account." 

Says  I,  in  a  very  dry  tone, — very :  "  What  a  lucky 
thing  it  is  for  Tennyson  and  Longfellow  that  you  and 
old  Bobbet  are  so  cramped  for  time.  There  wouldn't 
probable  be  no  call  for  their  books  at  all,  if  you  two 
old  men  only  had  time  to  write  poetry ;  it  is  dretful 
lucky  for  them." 

But  I  didn't  keep  up  that  dry,  sarcastical  tone  long. 
No,  I  felt  too  solemn  to.  I  felt  that  I  must  get  his 
mind  off  of  the  idee  if  I  possibly  could.  I  knew  it 
would  be  putting  the  wrong  foot  forward  to  come  right 
out  plain  and  tell  him  the  truth,  that  he  couldn't  sing 
no  more  than  a  steam-whistle  or  a  gong.  No,  I  knew 
that  would  be  the  wrong  way  to  manage.  But  I  says, 
in  a  warnin'  and  a  awful  sort  of  a  tone,  and  a  look  jest 
solemn  and  impressive  enough  to  go  with  it : 

"Remember,  Josiah  Allen,  how  many  times  your 
pardner  has  told  you  to  let  well  enough  alone.  You 


376  THE  REHEARSALS. 

had  better  not  try  to  go  into  any  such  doin's,  Josiah 
Allen.  You'll  sup  sorrow  if  you  do." 

But  it  was  no  use.  In  spite  of  all  my  entreaties  and 
arguments  they  got  it  up  amongst  'ein;  composed 
some  poetry  (or  what  they  called  poetry),  and  went 
and  sung  it  over  (or  what  they  called  singin')  night 
after  night  to  the  school-house ;  practicin'  it  secret  so 
Liab  shouldn't  hear  of  it,  for  they  was  a  lottin'  on 
givin'  him  such  a  joyful  surprise. 

Wall,  they  practised  it  over  night  after  night,  for 
over  a  week.  And  Josiah  would  praise  it  up  so  to  me, 
and  boast  over  it  so,  that  I  fairly  hated  the  word  ser- 
enade. 

"Why,"  says  he,  "it  is  perfectly  beautiful,  the  hull 
thirteen  pieces  we  have  learnt,  but  specially  the  piece 
we  have  made  up  about  him;  that  is  awful  affectin'." 
And  says  he:  "I  shouldn't  wonder  a  mite  if  Liab 
should  shed  tears  when  he  hears  it." 

And  I'd  tell  him  I  persumed  it  was  enough  to 
bring  tears  from  anybody. 

And  that  would  mad  him  agin.  He  would  get  mad 
as  a  hen  at  me.  But  I  didn't  care.  I  knew  I  was  a 
talkin'  on  principle,  and  I  wasn't  goin'  to  give  in  an 
inch,  and  I  didn't. 

Wall,  at  last  the  night  come  that  they  had  sot  to 
serenade  him.  I  felt  like  cryin'  all  the  time  he  was  a 
fixin'  to  go.  For  next  to  bein'  a  fool  yourself,  it  is 
gaulin'  to  have  a  pardner  make  a  fool  of  himself. 

But  never,  never,  did  I  see  Josiah  Allen  so  high- 


"SHET  THE  GATE."  377 

larious  in  his  most  highlarious  times.  He  acted  almost 
perfectly  happy.  Why,  you  would  have  thought  he 
was  a  young  man  to  see  him  act.  It  was  fairly  sickish, 
and  I  told  him  so. 

"  Wall,"  says  he,  as  he  started  out,  "  you  can  make 
light  of  me  all  you  are  a  mind  to,  Samantha,  but  as 
long  as  Josiah  Allen  has  the  chance  to  make  another 
fellow-mortal  perfectly  happy,  and  put  money  in  his 
own  pocket  at  the  same  time,  he  hain't  the  feller  to  let 
the  chance  slip." 

"  Wall,"  says  I  coldly,  "  shet  the  gate  after  you." 

I  knew  there  wuzn't  no  use  in  arguin'  any  more 
with  him  about  it.  And  I  think  it  is  a  great  thing  to 
know  when  to  stop  arguin'  or  preachin'  or  anythin'. 
It  is  a  great  thing  to  know  enough  to  stop  talkin* 
when  you  have  got  through  savin'  anythin'.  But  this 
is  a  deep  subject;  one  I  might  allegore  hours  and 
hours  on,  and  still  leave  ample  room  for  allegory. 

And  to  resoom  and  continue  on,  he  started  off ;  and 
I  wound  up  the  clock,  and  undressed  and  went  to  bed, 
leavin'  the  back-kitchen  door  onlocked. 

Wall,  that  was  in  the  neighborhood  of  10  o'clock. 
And  I  declare  for't,  and  I  hain't  afraid  to  own  it,  that 
I  felt  afraid.  There  I  was  all  alone  in  the  house,  sun- 
thin'  that  hardly  ever  happened  to  me,  for  Josiah  Allen 
was  always  one  that  you  couldn't  get  away  from  home 
nights  if  he  could  possibly  help  it ;  and  if  he  did  go  I 
almost  always  went  with  him.  Yes,  Josiah  Allen  is 
almost  always  near  me ;  and  though  he  hain't  probable 


378  A  FEARFUL  TIME. 


so  much  protection  as  he  would  be  if  he  weighed  more 
by  the  steelyards,  yet  such  is  my  love  for  him  that  I 
feel  safe  when  he  is  by  my  side. 

I  had  read  only  a  day  or  two  before  about  a  number 
of  houses  bein'  broken  open  and  plundered,  besides 
several  cases  of  rapine ;  and  though  I  hain't,  I  persume, 
so  afraid  of  burglers  as  I  would  be  if  I  had  ever  been 
burgled,  and  though  I  tried  to  put  my  best  foot  for- 
ward, and  be  calm,  still,  the  solemn  thought  would 
come  to  me,  and  I  couldn't  drive  it  away:  Who  knows 
but  what  this  is  the  time  that  I  shall  be  rapined  and 
burgled? 

Oh !  what  a  fearful  time  I  did  have  in  my  mind, 
as  I  lay  there  in  my  usually  peaceful  feather-bed. 

Wall,  I  got  wider  and  wider  awake  every  minute, 
and  thinkses  I,  I  will  get  up  and  light  the  lamp,  and 
read  a  little,  and  mebby  that  will  quiet  me  down.  So 
I  got  up  and  sot  down  by  the  buro,  and  took  up  the 
last  World;  and  the  very  first  piece  I  read  was  a 
account  of  a  house  bein'  broke  into,  between  ten 
o'clock  and  midnight,  and  four  wimmen  massacreed 
in  their  beds. 

I  laid  down  the  World,  and  groaned  loud.  And 
then  I  sithed  hard  several  times.  And  right  there, 
while  I  was  a  sithin',  sunthin'  come  kerslop  aginst 
the  window,  right  by  my  side.  And  though  I  hain't 
no  donbt  it  was  a  June  bug  or  a  bat,  still  if  it  had 
been  a  burgler  all  saddled  and  bridled  that  had  rode 
up  aginst  my  winder,  it  couldn't  have  skairt  me  no 


TRYING  TO  FEEL  SAFE. 


379 


worse,  and  I  couldn't  have  jumped  no  higher,  I  was  that 
wrought  up  and  excited. 

Wall,  thinkses  I,  it  is  the  light  that  has  drawed  that 
bat  or  June  bug  aginst  the  winder,  and  mebby  it  will 


draw  sunthin'  worse,  and  I  believe  I  will  blow  out  the 
light  and  get  into  bed  agin;  I  believe  I  will  feel 
safer. 

So  I  bio  wed  the  light  out,  and  got  into  bed.     Wall, 
I  had  lain  there  mebby  ten  minutes,  a  tremblin'  and  a 

quakin',  growin'  skairter  and  skairter  every  minute, 
U* 


380 


A  STRANGE  VOICE. 


when  all  of  a  sudden  I  heard  a  rappin'  aginst  my  win- 
der, and  a  hoarse  sort  of  a  whisper  sayin': 
"  Josiah  Allen!  Josiah  Allen!  Miss  Allen!  " 
It  didn't  sound  like  no  voice  that  I  had  ever  heard, 

and  I  jest  cov- 
ered my  head  up 
and  lay  there, 
with  my  heart  a 
beatin'  so  you 
could  have 
heard  it  under 
the  bed.  I  knew 
it  was  a  burgler. 
I  knew  my  time 
had  come  to  be 
burgled. 

Wall,  the 
whisperin'  and 
the  rappin'  kep' 
up  for  quite  a 
spell,  and  then 
it  kinder  died 
off;  and  I  got 
up  and  peeked 

through  the  winder,  and  then  I  see  a  long  white  figger 
a  movin'  off  round  the  corner  of  the  house  toward  the 
back-kitchen.  And  then  I  was  skairter  still,  for  I 
knew  it  was  a  ghost  that  was  a  appearin'  to  me.  And 
1  had  always  said,  and  say  still,  that  I  had  ruther  be 
burgled  than  appeared  to. 


ALONE  WITH  A  SPECTRE.  881 

And  there  I  lay,  a  tremblin'  and  a  listening  and 
pretty  soon  I  heard  steps  a  comin'  into  the  back- 
kitchen,  and  so  along  through  the  house  up  to  my  bed- 
room door.  And  then  there  come  a  rap  right  onto  my 
door.  And  though  cold  shivers  was  a  runnin'  down 
my  back,  and  goose-pimples  was  present  with  me,  I 
knew  sunthin'  had  got  to  be  done. 

There  I  was  alone  in  the  house  with  a  ghost.  And 
thinkses  I,  I  must  try  to  use  it  well,  so's  to  get  rid  of 
it ;  for  I  thought  like  as  not  if  I  madded  it,  it  would 
stick  right  by  me.  And  so  I  says,  in  as  near  the 
words  I  could  remember,  as  I  had  hearn  tell  they 
talked  to  spirits: 

"Are  you  a  good  spirit?"  says  I.  "If  you  are  a 
good  spirit,  raise  up  and  rap  three  times." 

I  s'pose  my  voice  sounded  low  and  tremblin'  down 
under  the  bed-clothes,  and  my  teeth  chattered  so  loud 
that  they  probable  drounded  the  words  some.  But  the 
rappin'  kep'  up. 

And  says  I  agin:  "If  you  are  a  likely  spirit,  raise 
up  and  rap  three  times,  and  then  leave."  And  then 
says  I,  for  I  happened  to  think  what  I  had  heard  they 
done  to  get  'em  away,  for  I  had  been  that  flustrated 
and  horrer-struck  that  I  couldn't  think  of  nothin' 
hardly,  says  I : 

"I  will  you  away.  I  will  you  off  out  of  this  house, 
if  you  please,"  I  added,  for  I  was  so  afraid  of  maddin' 
it.  Thinkses  I  to  myself,  I  would  ruther  mad  a  bur- 
gler  or  a  rapiner  ten  times  over  than  to  get  a  apperi- 


382  TALKING  WITH  THE  GHOST. 

tion  out  with  me.  1  s'pose  I  had  spoke  up  louder  this 
time,  for  the  ghost  (or  what  1  thought  was  such)  an- 
swered back  to  me,  and  says : 

"  1  am  Miss  Moony." 

Says  1  •  "  Not  she  that  was  Tamer  Sansey  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  be." 

Says  I,  in  stern  tones,  for  truth  and  rectitude  is  my 
theme,  even  in  talkin'  with  a  apperition,  and  I  felt, 
skairt  as  I  was,  that  it  would  be  better  to  improve  a 
ghost  than  to  not  be  a  doin'  anything  in  the  cause  of 
right.  And  so  says  1  firmly : 

"  Do  you  stop  tellin'  such  stuff  to  me."  Says  I : 
"  You  are  a  lyin'  spirit.  Tamer  Moony  is  alive  and 
enjoyin'  middlin'  good  health,  if  she  wuzn't  so  nervous. 
Eliab  Gansey  is  a  visitin'  of  her  now.  She  never  was 
a  ghost,  nor  nothin'  like  it,  and  apperition  or  not,  you 
shan't  stand  there  and  lie  to  me." 

Says  the  voice:  "  Let  me  in,  Miss  Allen  ;  1  am  Miss 
Moony,  and  I  am  most  dead;  I  am  skairt  most  to 
death.  And,"  says  she,  "  I  want  Josiah  Allen  to  go 
over  to  our  house  right  off.  Oh!  1  am  most  dead," 
says  she. 

1  begun  to  grow  calmer.  1  see  it  wuzn't  no  ghost, 
and  says  I:  "Wait  one  minute,  Miss  Moony." 

And  I  ketched  up  the  first  weepon  1  could  get  holt 
of  to  defend  myself,  if  she  should  prove  to  be  a  impos- 
ter.  It  was  Fox'es  Book  of  Martyrs,  and  I  calculated 
in  case  of  need  to  jest  throw  them  old  martyrs  at  her 
in  a  way  she  would  remember.  But  it  didn't  prove  to 


OPENING  THE  DOOR. 


383 


be  no  imposter.  When  1  opened  the  door  there  stood 
Tamer  Moony  a  tremblin'  in  her  night-gown,  with  not 
a  sign  of  a  shoe  nor  a  stockin'  on  her  feet,  nor  a  bon 
net  on,  nor  nothin'. 

"  Why,  for  the  land's  sake,  Tamer  Moony,'  says  I. 


TAMER  MOONY. 

"  what  is  the  matter  ?     What  are  you  here  at  this  time 
of  night  for,  and  in  this  condition  ?"  says  1. 

"Why,"  says  she,  a  tremblin'  like  a  popple-leaf, 
"  there  is  the  awiulest  goin's  on  up  to  our  house  that 
you  ever  see.  There  is  murderin'  a  goin'  on!  Liab 
has  been  murdered  in  cold  blood ! "  says  she,  a  wringm* 
her  hands,  and  groanin'  and  sithin'  like  a  wild  woman. 


384  SUPPOSED  MURDER. 

"What  makes  you  think  so?"  says  I.  "What 
have  you  seen?  Have  you  been  hurt?  Where  is 
Mandna?"  says  I. 

.  "  Oh,  Mandy  has  gone  over  to  Dagget's  to  roust  them 
up.  Oh !  Oh !  them  awful  sounds !  They  are  a 
ringin'  through  my  ears  yet ! "  says  she,  a  wringin' 
her  hands  and  a  groanin'  wilder  than  ever. 


THE   SERENADING  PARTY. 

Says  I  firmly,  but  kindly :  "  Tamer  Moony,  try  to  be 
calm,  and  compose  yourself  down.  Tell  me  jest  what 
you  have  seen  and  heerd,  and  how  it  begun." 

"  Wall,  in  the  first  place,  Mandana  and  I  was 
rousted  up  out  of  sleep  by  hearin'  a  noise  down  in  the 
the  yard,  and  we  got  up  and  peeked  through  the  win- 
der, and  we  see  7  or  8  men, — wild,  savage-lookin'  men, 
— a  prowlin'  along  through  the  yard ;  some  of  'em 
walked  with  canes.  I  persume  they  had  swords  in 


WILD  INJUNS.  385 


'em.  Mandy  thought  she  see  the  swords — bloody 
swords.  And  as  we  stood  there  a  peekin'  through  the 
blinds,  we  see  'em  prowl  their  way  along  round  the 
house  towards  Liab's  winder.  And  then,  a  minute  or 
two  after,  we  heerd  the  awfulest  sounds  we  ever  heerd, 
the  most  fearful  and  agonizin'.  I  s'pose  it  was  Liab  a 
groanin'  and  screechin'  when  they  killed  him.  And 
then  they  seemed  to  screech  out  and  yell  the  most 
harrowin'  and  blood-curdlin'  sounds  I  ever  heerd. 
Mandy  said  she  knew  they  was  Injuns.  No  other  race 
could  have  made  such  hideous  and  unearthly  noises. 
She  said  she  had  heerd  that  Injuns  gin  jest  such  awful 
and  melancholy  yells  when  they  was  on  the  war-path. 

"  Wall,  them  awful  sounds  took  every  mite  of  our 
strength  away.  We  stood  there  tremblin'  like  two 
leaves,  till  finally  we  made  out  to  totter  down  the  back 
stairs ;  and  she  run  to  Dagget'ses,  and  I  started  acrost 
the  lots  here,  for  we  thought  the  hull  neighborhood 
ort  to  be  rousted  up.  I  am  most  dead !  Oh !  poor 
Liab !  poor  Liab !  And  his  wife  and  childern  happy 
at  home !  Who  will  carry  the  awful  news  to  'em?  He 
was  probable  killed  before  I  got  out  of  the  house.  I 
thought  I  suffered  when  I  lost  my  husband  and  4 
childern  within  a  year,  but  this  goes  ahead  of  anything 
I  ever  see.  So  harrowin'  and  awful ;  to  have  Liab,  my 
only  brother,  killed  right  under  my  ruff,  and  I  couldn't 
help  it.  Oh !  what  shall  I  do  ?  What  shall  I  do  ?  " 

I  see  she  was  jest  a  tumblin'  over  into  a  historical 
fit,  and  I  laid  her  down  on  my  bed,  and  broke  it  to  her 


JOSIAH  COMES  HOME. 


gradual,  what  the  trouble  was.  And  then  she  had  the 
historicks  worse  than  ever.  She  broke  out  into  a 
laugh  so  loud  that  you  could  hear  her  clear  to  the 
road,  and  then  she  broke  out  a  cryin'  so  you  could 
hear  her  et  cetery  and  the  same.  And  then  she 
would  claw  right  into  me,  and  tear  and  rip  round. 

But  good  land!  she  didn't  know  what  she  was  a 
doin',  she  was  so  full  of  the  historicks.  She  was  jest 
a  pullin'  and  a  tearin'  at  the  bottom  sheet  when  Josiah 
Allen  came  a  meachin'  in.  A  meachiner-lookin'  cree- 
ter  I  never  beheld.  And  from  what  I  learned  after- 
wards, well  he  might  meach.  And  as  bad  as  he 
looked,  he  looked  worse  when  I  says  to  him,  says  I : 

"I  told  you,  Josiah  Allen,  to  let  well  enough  alone, 
but  you  wouldn't ;  and  you  can  see  now  what  you  have 
done  with  your  serenadin'  and  foolery.  You  have 
killed  Miss  Moony,  for  what  I  know,  and,"  says  I,  in 
still  sterner  axents,  "  a  hull  piece  of  factory  cloth 
won't  make  our  loss  good." 

Then  Josiah  groaned  awful,  and  says  I : 

"  What  worse  effects  have  follered  on  after  your 
serenadin',  I  don't  know." 

Josiah  kep'  on  a  groanin'  pitifuller  and  pitifuller, 
and  I  see  then  that  his  head  was  all  bruised  up.  It 
looked  as  if  he  had  been  pelted  with  sunthin'  hard, 
and  there  was  a  bunch  riz  up  over  his  left  eye  as  big 
as  a  banty's  egg,  and  it  was  a  swellin'  all  the  time 
etiddy  and  constant.  And  from  that  night,  right 
along,  I  kep'  bread  and  milk  poultices  on  it,  changin' 


CATNIP  AND  POULTICES. 


387 


from  lobelia  to  catnip,  as  I  see  the  swellin'  growed  or 
diminished. 

His  sufferin's  was  awful,  and  so  was  mine,  for  all 
the  first  3  days  and  nights  I  thought  it  would  mortify, 
do  the  best  I  could,  it  looked  that  black  and  angry. 
His  agony  with  it  was  intense,  and  also  with  his  mind 


THE  BRUISED  JOSIAH. 

— his  mind  bein'  near  the  swellin',  made  it  worse, 
mebby — his  mortification  and  disapointment  was  that 
overwhelmin'  and  terrible.  It  was  the  water-pitcher, 
as  I  hearn  afterwards,  that  Liab  had  pelted  him  with. 
I  s'pose  from  what  I  heerd  afterwards,  that  they  had 
the  awfulest  time  that  was  ever  heard  of  in  Jonesville, 
or  the  world.  Liab  jest  throwed  everything  at  'em  he 
could  lay  his  hands  on.  Why,  them  old  men  was  jest 


388  TELLING  BLOWS. 


about  killed.  He  pretended  to  think  they  was  burglers 
and  tramps,  but  I  never  believed  it  for  a  minute.  I 
believe  it  madded  him  to  be  waked  up  out  of  a  sound 
sleep,  and  see  them  8  old  creeters  makin'  perfect  fools 
of  themselves. 

Some  think  that  he  had  been  kinder  sot  up  by  some 
jealous-minded  person,  and  made  to  think  the  Jones- 
villians  wanted  to  make  money  out  of  him,  and  cheat 
him ;  and  he  was  always  dretful  quick-tempered,  that 
everybody  knows. 

And  some  think  that  he  thought  it  was  a  lot  of 
young  fellers  dressed  up  in  disguise,  a  tryin'  to  make 
fun  of  him,  callin'  him  "Eliab."  He  always  hated 
the  name  Eliab,  and  had  felt  above  it  for  years,  and 
wrote  his  name  E.  Wellington  Gansey.  But  as  he  left 
on  the  first  train  in  the  morning,  I  don't  s'pose  we 
shaU  ever  know  the  hull  truth  of  the  matter. 

But  anyway,  whatever  was  the  cause,  he  bruised  up 
them  old  men  fearful.  Eliab  was  strong  and  perse- 
vering and  a  good  calculator,  or  he  never  could  have 
laid  up  the  property  he  had.  Every  blow  hit  jest 
where  it  would  hurt  the  worst.  He  pelted  them  old  men 
perfectly  fearful.  They  had  composed  a  lot  of  verses 
— over  20  they  say  there  was  of  'em — that  they  was 
a  layin'  out  to  sing  to  him.  They  didn't  sing  but  3, 1 
believe,  when  the  first  boot  hit  'em,  but  they  say  they 
kep'  on  singin'  the  next  verse,  bein'  determined  to 
mollify  him  down,  till  they  got  so  bruised  and  battered 


THE   SEKENADE. 


THE  BURDEN  OP  THEIR  SONG.  391 

up  that  they  had  to  flee  for  their  very  lives.     The 
verses  run  like  this : 

Who  did  from  the  Ohio  come 
To  visit  round  in  his  old  home, 
And  make  the  neighbors  happy,  some? 
Eliab. 

"With  melody  we  him  will  cheer, 
And  keep  Eliab  Gansey  here. 
Who  is  this  man  we  love  so  dear? 

Eliab. 

If  music  sweet  as  can  be  had 

Can  sooth  thee,  make  thee  blest  and  glad, 

Then  never  more  shalt  thou  be  sad, 

Eliab. 

I  s'pose  it  was  jest  at  this  very  minute  that  the 
washbowl  flew  and  struck  old  Bobbet  in  the  small  of 
the  back,  and  crumpled  him  right  down ;  he  was  sort 
o'  bent  over  the  accordeon.  They  didn't  play  the 
accordeon  all  the  time  they  was  singin',  as  I  have  been 
told,  but  between  the  verses;  jest  after  they  would  sing 
"  Eliab,"  they  would  play  a  few  notes  sort  o'  lively. 

It  was  Josiah's  idee,  as  I  heard  afterwards,  their 
takin'  the  accordeon.  They  couldn't  one  of  'em  play 
a  tune,  or  anything  that  sounded  like  a  tune,  but  he 
insisted  it  would  look  more  stylish  to  have  some  instru- 
ment, and  so  they  took  that  old  accordeon  that  used  to 
belong  to  Shakespeare  Bobbet. 

They  had  planned  it  all  out,  and  had  boasted  that 


392  THE  STORM. 


they  bad  got  up  something  in  their  own  heads  that 
hadn't  never  been  heerd  of  in  Jonesville.  And  well 
they  might  say  so,  well  they  might. 

Wall,  there  wasn't  one  of  them  8  old  fellers  that 
was  good  for  anything  for  the  next  4  weeks.  Eliab's 
folks  try  to  make  the  best  of  it.  They  say  now  that 
Eliab  always  did,  when  he  was  first  rousted  up  out  of 
a  sound  sleep,  act  kinder  lost  and  crazy.  They  tell 
that  now  to  kind  o'  smooth  it  over,  but  I  think,  and  I 
always  shall  think,  that  he  knew  jest  who  he  was 
a  liittin',  and  what  he  was  a  hittin'  'em  with.  It  was 
the  glass  soap-dish  that  struck  old  Dagget's  nose. 
And  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  that  nose  for  the  next 
3  weeks.  It  used  to  be  a  Roman,  but  after  that  night 
it  didn't  look  much  like  a  Roman. 

Eliab's  boots  was  the  very  best  of  leather,  and  they 
had  a  new-fashioned  kind  of  heels,  some  sort  o'  metal 
or  other,  and  Cornelius  Cook  says  they  hit  as  powerful 
as  any  cannon  balls  would ;  he  goes  lame  yet.  You 
know  the  shin-bone  is  one  of  the  tcnderest  bones  in 
the  hull  body  to  be  hit  aginst. 

It  was  the  bootjack  that  hit  the  Editor  of  the 
Augur'ses  head.  His  wife  was  skairt  most  to  death 
about  him,  and  she  says  to  me — she  had  come  over  to 
see  if  she  could  get  some  wormwood — and  she  says : 

"  He  never  will  get  over  that  bootjack  in  the  world, 
I  don't  believe.  His  head  is  swelled  up  as  big  as  two 
heads  ought  to  be." 


OLD  SANSEY  AND  SMARTWEED.  393 

And  says  I :  "  It  always  happens  so,  don't  it,  that 
the  weakest  spot  is  the  one  that  always  gets  hit  ? " 

I  was  sorry  for  her  as  I  could  be.  And  I  gin  her 
the  wormwood,  and  recommended  her  to  use  about 
half  and  half  smart  weed.  Says  I:  "Smart  weed  is 
good  for  the  outside  of  his  head,  and  if  it  strikes  in  it 
won't  hurt  him  none." 

I  felt  to  sympathize  with  her.  Old  Sansey  hain't 
got  over  the  slop-jar  yet.  It  brought  on  other  com- 
plaints that  he  was  subject  to,  and  the  Dr.  says  he 
may  get  over  it,  and  he  may  not. 

But  as  bad  as  it  was  for  all  the  rest,  it  was  the 
•worst  for  Josiah  Allen — as  bad  agin. 

It  wuzn't  so  much  the  hurt  he  got  that  night,  though 
I  thought  for  quite  a  spell  that  it  would  have  to  be 
operated  on,  and  I  didn't  know  but  it  would  prove  to 
be  his  death-blow.  And  it  wuzn't  so  much  our  suffer- 
in's  with  Miss  Moony,  though  them  was  fearful,  bein' 
up  with  her  all  that  night,  and  workin'  over  her  to  keep 
the  breath  of  life  in  her,  and  she  a  clawin'  at  us,  and 
a  ketchin'  holt  of  us,  and  a  laughin',  and  a  cryin'. 
We  had  to  send  for  the  neighbors,  we  was  that  skairt 
about  her,  and  Josiah  had  to  go  for  the  doctor  right  in 
the  dead  of  night,  with  his  head  a  achin'  as  if  it  would 
split  open. 

And  it  wuzn't  so  much  the  thought  of  losin'  Eliab  and 
money,  though  Josiah  was  dretfully  attached  to  both, 
and  he  felt  the  loss  of  both  on  'em  more  deeply  than 
tongue  can  ever  tell.  But  that  wuzn't  where  the  deep- 


394  A  HUMILIATIN'  BLOW. 

est  piece  of  iron  entered  his  soul.  It  was  to  think  his 
singin'  had  got  called  so  all  to  nort.  He  thought  he 
was  such  a  sweet,  dulcet  harmonist;  he  had  gloated 
and  boasted  so  over  his  lovely,  melodious  voice,  and 
thought  he  was  goin'  to  be  admired  so  for  it;  and 
then  to  think  his  singin'  had  skairt  two  wimmen  most 
to  death,  had  skairt  one  into  fits,  anyway — for  if  ever 
a  woman  had  a  historical  fit  Tamer  Moony  had  one 
that  night.  And  instead  of  his  serenade  winnin' 
Liab's  love  and  money,  it  had  disgusted  him  BO  that 
he  had  pelted  him  most  to  death. 

Oh !  it  was  a  fearfully  humiliatin'  blow  to  his  vanity. 
The  blow  on  his  forward  wasn't  to  be  compared  to  the 
soreness  of  the  blow  onto  his  vanity,  though  the 
swellin'  on  his  forward  was  bigger  than  a  butnut,  and 
as  sore  as  any  bile  I  ever  see. 

Yes,  I  have  seen  Josiah  Allen  in  tryin'  places,  time 
and  agin,  and  in  places  calculated  to  make  a  man 
meach,  but  never,  never  did  I  see  him  in  a  place  of 
such  deep  meachin'ness  and  gloom  as  he  was  that  night 
after  he  had  come  home  with  Doctor  Bamber.  There 
he  was,  at  the  very  time,  the  very  night,  when  he  had 
lotted  on  bein'  covered  with  admiration  and  glory  like 
a  mantilly,  there  he  wuz  lookin',  oh,  so  pitiful  and 
meek,  bowed  down  by  pain,  contumily,  and  water- 
pitchers.  And  he  happened  to  pass  by  the  bed  where 
Miss  Moony  lay,  and  she,  bein'  blind  with  historicks, 
laid  holt  of  him,  and  called  him  "Mandana."  She 
clutched  right  into  his  vest,  and  held  him  tight,  and 


JOSIAH  IN  A  HARD  PLACE. 


395 


"  Oh  Mandana !  Oh !  them  awful  voices !  Oh !  them 
horrible,  screechin'  yells!  I  can't  forget  'em,"  says 
she.  "  They  are  ringin'  through  my  ears  yet." 

And  then  Dr.  Bamber  and  the  neighbors  knew  all 
about  what  it  wuz  that  had  skairt  her  so ;  there  they 
stood  a  laughin'  in  their  sleeves  (as  it  were).  And 


MANDANA  !  MANDANA  I 

Josiah  standin'  there,  lookin'  as  if  he  must  sink.  And 
there  Samantha  wuz,  who  had  vainly  argued  with  him, 
and  entreated  him  to  let  well  enough  alone. 

Yes,  Josiah  Allen  was  in  a  hard  place,  a  very  hard 
place.  But  he  couldn't  get  away  from  her,  so  he  had 
to  grin  and  bear  it.  For  he  couldn't  onclench  her 


THE  LAST  OF  THE  SERENADE. 


hands;  she  had  a  sort  of  a  spazzum  right  there,  a 
holdin'  him  tight.  And  every  time  she  would  come  to 
a  little,  she  would  call  him  "  Mandana,"  and  yell 
about  them  "  awful,  blood-curdlin'  screeches."  It  was 
a  curious  time — very. 

Wall,  she  got  better  after  a  while.  Dr.  Bamber 
give  her  powerful  doses  of  morpheen,  and  that  quelled 
her  down. 

But  morpheen  couldn't  quiet  down  Josiah  Allen's 
feelin's,  nor  ease  the  sore  spot  in  his  vanity.  No !  all 
the  poppies  that  ever  grew  in  earthly  gardens  couldn't 
do  it.  He  never  will  start  out  a  seranadin'  agin,  I 
don't  believe — never. 

I  hain't  one  to  be  a  twittin'  about  things.  But  sun- 
thin'  happened  to  bring  the  subject  up  the  other 
mornin'  jest  after  breakfast,  and  I  says  this,  I  merclj 
observed  this  to  him : 

"Wall,  you  wanted  to  make  a  excitement,  Josiah 
Allen,  and  you  did  make  one." 

"  Wall,  wall !  who  said  I  didn't  ?  " 

Says  I:  "You  have  most  probable  done  your  last 
seranadin'." 

I  said  this  in  a  mild  and  almost  amiable  axent,  but 
you  ort  to  .heard  how  that  man  yelled  up  at  me. 

Says  he :  "  If  I  was  a  woman,  and  couldn't  keep 
from  talkin'  so  dumb  aggravating  I'd  tie  my  tongue  to 
my  teeth.  And  if  you  are  a  goin'  to  skim  the  milk 
for  that  calf,  why  don't  you  skim  it  ?  " 

«  Wall,"  says  I  mildly,  "  I  hain't  deef." 


A   STITCII    IN    THB    BACK. 


JUDAS  WART  AND  SUFFERIN'  WIMMIN. 

ONE  mornin',  not  long  after  Miss  Bobbet's  visit,  I 
was  a  doin'  up  my  mornin's  work.  I  had  been  a 
little  belated,  for  my  companion  Josiah,  while  fod- 
derin',  had  been  took  in  his  back  sudden  and  violent 
with  a  stitch. 

He  is  subject  to  such  stitches,  but  they  are  very 
painful  and  inconvenient.  All  the  way  he  could  walk 
round  the  house  was  by  leanin'  upon  a  broom-stick. 
He  found  the  broom-handle  in  the  barn,  and  come  in 
leanin'  heavy  on  it,  and  groanin'  powerful  and  fre- 
quent. It  skairt  me  awfully. 

I  never  hinted  to  _  him  that  I  thought  more'n  as 
likely  as  not  that  stitch  was  sent  as  a  judgment ;  no,  I 
held  firm,  and  kep'  my  tongue  still  witli  almost  giant 
force.  That  day,  when  the  sun  had  rose  up  clear  and 
lofty  in  the  heavens,  was  the  time  I  had  calculated  to 
tackle  him.  But  I  was  too  honorable  to  tackle  a  pard- 
ner  who  was  down  with  a  stitch. 

No,  I  treated  him  well,  bathed  his  back  in  linament, 
15  (399) 


400      THE  MORMON  ELDER  VISITS  SAMANTHA, 


and  he  was  a  lyin'  behind  the  stove  on  the  lounge,  as 
comfortable  as  anybody  could  be  in  his  situation  of 
back  and  conscience. 

As  I  said,  I  was  a  washin'  up  my  dishes  in  the  but- 
tery, when  all  of 
a  sudden  in  walk- 
ed Elder  Judas 
Wart.  The  door 
was  open,  it  bein' 
a  pleasant  morn- 
iii',  and  he  jest 
rapped  at  the  side 
of  the  door,  and 
walked  in. 

I  guess  he 
didn't  see  Josiah, 
the  lounge  bein' 
kinder  behind  the  door ;  but  he  seemed  dretful  tickled  to 
see  me — tickleder  fur  than  I  was.  Though,  havin'  my 
mission  in  view,  I  used  him  well,  and  sot  him  a  chair. 
But  little  did  I  think  what  was  before  me ;  little  did  I 
think  what  the  awfulness  of  his  first  words  to  me 
would  be.  He  hadn't  been  in  that  house  five  minutes, 
for  I  know  I  had  only  jest  hung  up  my  dish-cloth  (for 
knowin'  what  a  tussle  of  principle  was  ahead  of  me, 
and  feelin'  as  if  I  should  need  all  my  strength  in  the 
conflict,  I  left  the  heaviest  of  my  dishes  to  wash  at 
noon,  for  the  first  time  in  over  fourteen  months). 
Wall,  if  you  can  believe  it,  jest  as  I  got  that  dish- 


ELDER  JUDAS  WABT. 


COMPLIMENTARY  REMARKS. 


401 


cloth  hung  up,  that  man,  with  no  phraseoligies  or  ex- 
cuses or  anything,  that  man  up  and  says : 

"  I  have  heard,  and  I  see  for  myself,  that  you  are  a 
very  smart  woman,  and  you  could  do  wonders  in  the 
true  church  if  you  was  married  to  some  leadin'  man, 


RESCUING  THE  ELDER. 

— to  me,  for  instance,"  says  he,  bold  as  brass,  "  or  was 
sealed  to  me,"  says  he,  spittin'  hard  onto  the  floor. 
But  that  man  hadn't  hardly  got  that  seal  and  that 
tobacco-juice  out  of  his  mouth,  when  Josiah  Allen 
sprung  up  and  leveled  that  broom-stick  at  him  with  a 
deadly  aim.  I  sprung  forward  and  threw  the  end  of 
the  broom-stick  up  jest  in  time  to  save  the  Elder's  life. 


402  SA8S  FOR  THE  GANDER 

I  forced  him  to  desist,  I  and  the  stitch ;  for  truly  the 
effort  was  too  much  for  him.  The  stitch  griped  him 
awful,  and  he  sunk  back  with  a  agonizin'  groan. 

I  wanted  Josiah  to  stay  his  hand  and  the  broom- 
stick for  two  reasons.  One  was,  I  didn't  want  the 
Elder  killed  quite  so  quick — not  till  after  I  had  had  a 
chance  to  convert  him.  And  another  reason  was,  I 
thought  of  my  deep  agony  and  a  Widder  Bump,  and 
thinkses  I  to  myself,  though  the  medicine  is  fearful  to 
administer,  as  gaulin'  and  bitter  as  wormwood  and 
sicuta  biled  down  in  tar  and  vinegar,  still  I  felt  it  was 
what  my  companion  needed  to  show  him  the  nefarious- 
ness  and  heniousness  of  Mormonism,  in  its  true  light. 

I  wouldn't  in  his  present  weakness  of  mind  and 
back,  throw  the  Widder  Bump  in  his  face,  as  I  might 
have  done.  Some  pardners  would  have  jest  turned 
round  on  him,  as  he  lay  there  on  that  lounge,  and 
throwed  that  woman  full  and  square  in  his  face.  But 
I  didn't.  I  see  he  was  a  sufferin'  enough  without 
that.  He  was  takin'  the  matter  to  himself  like  a  blis- 
ter, as  anybody  has  got  to,  in  order  to  feel  the  smart. 
A  blister  don't  draw  half  so  powerful,  nor  feel  half  so 
bad,  when  it  is  on  somebody  else'es  back,  as  it  does 
when  it  is  on  our'n.  He  was  a  meditatin'  how  it 
would  seem  to  his  heart  to  lose  the  companion  of  his 
youth  and  middle  age.  He  was  a  eatin'  of  that  sass 
which  ganders  think  is  quite  good  for  geese  to  eat. 
He  was  seein'  now  how  it  would  relish  to  a  gander.  I 


ABOUT  "A  CERTAIN  WIDDER."  403 

pitied  him  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart,  his  looks  was 
such. 

But  Elder  Judas  Wart  had  no  such  feelin's  of  pity 
and  sympathy,  and  bein'  excited  by  Josiah's  ragin' 
wrath,  and  maddened  by  the  broom-stick,  he  spoke  out, 
in  a  angry,  sarcastical  tone : 

"Your  husband  felt  different  on  this  subject  last 
spring.  He  seemed  almost  inclined  at  one  time  to  take 
to  himself  another  helpmate.  There  was  a  certain 
widder,  there  " — 

"  You  lie,  sir !  "  says  Josiah,  springin'  up  to  his  feet. 
"There  wuzn't  no  widder  there,  and  I  never  was  there." 

"Never  was  where?"  says  I,  in  a  awful  voice;  for 
curiosity  and  various  other  emotions  was  a  hunchin' 
me,  as  hard  as  ever  a  woman  was  hunched  by  'em. 

"I  never  was  anywhere!  I  never  was  to  their 
meetin's,  nor  to  nowhere  else." 

"  Where  wuz  you,  then  ? "  says  I,  in  that  same 
strange  voice. 

"  I  told  you  I  wuzn't  nowhere,  didn't  I  ?  "  he  yelled 
out  in  fearful  axents. 

But  Elder  Judas  Wart  went  right  on  a  talkin'  to  me, 
stiddy  as  fate,  and  as  hard  to  be  turned  round  as  she. 

"He  seemed  then  to  look  at  the  Widder"— 

"  I  never  looked  at  a  widder !  I  never  see  none !  I 
never  see  a  widder  in  my  life !  " 

Says  I :  "Josiah  Allen,  be  calm!  " 

"  I  tell  you  I  won't  be  calm  !  And  I  tell  you  there 
hain't  no  widders  there — nor  hain't  never  been  any — 
nor  nowhere  else — nor  I  never  heard  of  any." 


404  JOSIAH  LIES,  AND  STICKS  TO  IT. 

He  was  delerious,  and  I  see  that  he  was.  But  Elder 
Judas  Wart  kep'  right  on,  with  a  haughty,  proud 
axent: 

"He  seemed  then  to  look  favorably  upon  the  widder 
I  have  lately  espoused.  The  Widder  Bump ;  don't  you 
remember  her  ?  " 

"No!  I  don't  remember  no  such  widder,  and  I  don't 
believe  there  was  any  by  that  name." 

"  Why,"  says  I,  "  Josiah  Allen,  she  made  that  coat 
you  have  got  on.  Don't  you  remember  it  ?  " 

"No!  I  don't!  She  didn't  make  it!  It  wuzn't 
made !  I  never  had  none." 

"Why,  Josiah  Allen,"  says  I,  "what  will  become  of 
you  if  you  tell  such  stories  ?" 

"  There  won't  nothin'  become  of  me,  nor  never  will ; 
there  never  has  nothin'  become  of  me." 

But  jest  as  he  said  this,  the  stitch  ketched  him  agin 
powerful  and  strong,  and  he  sunk  down  on  the  lounge, 
a  groanin'  violent. 

I  see  he  was  delerious  with  pain  of  body,  and  fur 
deeper,  more  agonizin'  pain  of  mind,  contrition,  shame, 
remorse,  and  various  other  emotions. 

And  then,  oh,  the  strength  and  power  of  woman's 
love !  As  that  man  lay  there,  with  all  his  past  weak- 
ness and  wickedness  brought  out  before  me,  stricken 
with  agony,  remorse,  and  stitches,  I  loved  him,  and  I 
pitied  him.  I  felt  that  devoted,  yearnin',  tender  feelin* 
for  him  to  that  extent  that  I  felt  in  my  heart  that  if  it 
were  possible  I  could  take  that  stitch  upon  me,  and 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  CHILDHOOD.  405 

bear  it  onward  myself,  and  relieve  my  pardner. 
Women's  love  is  a  beautiful  thing,  a  holy  thing,  but 
curious,  very. 

I  reviled  my  pardner  not,  but  covered  him  tenderly 
up  with  my  old  woolen  shawl,  sot  the  broomstick  up 
against  the  lounge,  and  he  lay  there  and  never  said 
another  word,  only  at  intervals — when  a  pain  of  un- 
common size  would  ketch  him  in  his  back  or  con- 
science, he  would  groan  loud  and  agonizin'.  But  I  see 
it  was  no  use  to  argue  with  him  then  about  the  Widder 
Bump. 

But  if  you'll  believe  it,  I  can't  make  him  to  this  day 
say  nothin'  different.  I  have  had  a  great  many  talks 
with  him  on  the  subject,  but,  he  says,  "  She  is  a  woman 
he  never  see." 

And  the  nearest  I  ever  made  him  own  up  to  it  was 
once  when  I  had  talked  real  good  to  him,  talked  to 
him  about  his  past  wickedness  and  tottlin'  morals,  and 
told  him  how  I  knew  his  morals  was  straightened  and 
propped  up  now,  good  and  sound,  and  his  affections 
stabled  and  firm  sot  where  they  should  be  sot.  I 
talked  awful  good  to  him,  and  he  seemed  to  be  sort  o* 
melted  down.  And  he  owned  up  "  that  it  did  seem  to 
him  as  if  he  had  heard,  when  he  was  a  child,  of  a 
woman  by  that  name,  that  lived  somewhere  near  here. 
It  was  either  that  name,  or  Bumper — he  couldn't  for 
his  life  tell  which." 

And  I  gin  up  then.     Truly  there  are  strange  pages 


406  8AMANTHA  IS  APPROACHED. 

in  a  man's  nater,  filled  with  curious  language,  curiouser 
than  conundrums :  who  can  read  'em  ? 

As  I  said,  havin'  the  aim  in  my  mind  that  I  did  have, 
havin'  a  desire  to  let  Josiah  Allen  get  a  full  taste  of 
that  sass  that  he,  as  well  as  other  ganders,  find  is  fur 
different  to  eat  themselves,  and  to  stand  haughtily  on 
one  leg  (to  foller  out  the  gander  simely)  and  see  their 
mates  eat  it.  Havin'  a  desire  to  let  him  get  a  full 
glimpse  of  the  awful  depth  and  blackness  and  horrer 
of  the  abyss  he  had  suspended  himself  over,  I  did  not 
rebuke  Elder  Judas  Wart  as  I  should,  had  it  not  been 
for  that.  I  merely  told  him,  when  he  said  sunthin' 
agin  about  my  bein'  sealed  to  him — I  merely  said  to 
him,  with  dignity  and  firmness : 

Says  I,  "If  you  say  that  word  seal  to  me  agin,  I'll 
seal  you  in  a  way  you  won't  never  want  to  be  sealed!" 
Says  I,  in  still  more  awful  tones,  glancin'  at  the  bilin' 
teakettle,  "  If  you  say  that  word  to  me  agin  in  my 
house,  I'll  scald  you,  if  it  is  the  last  work  I  ever  do  in 
my  life,  and  I  am  hung  for  it  the  next  minute." 

My  face  was  red ;  I  was  fearfully  excited  with  my 
almost  giant  efforts  to  control  myself.  To  think  that 
he  should  dare  to  approach  me !  me !  Josiah  Allen's 
wife !  with  his  infamous  offer.  He  see  that  my  looks 
was  gettin'  terrible  and  scareful,  and  he  hastened  to 
say: 

"  I  meant  it  in  a  religious  way." 

And  I  was  that  excited  and  mad,  that  I  spoke  right 
up  and  says,  "  Wall !  I'll  scald  you  in  a  religious  way ; " 


RELIGIOUS  MATRIMONY. 


407 


and  I  added,  in  a  firm,  low  tone,  "  But  I'll  bet  a  cent 
you  won't  never  want  to  be  scalded  agin  as  long  as  you 
live." 

Says  he,  in  a  sort  of  a  apologizing  meachin'  way,  "It 
is  my  religion  to  marry  various  wives." 

"  Wall,"  says  I,  still  clingin'  to  my  simely,  as  great 


VY; 


HOT  WATER. 


oriters  always  do,  "It  is  my  religion  to  scald  you,  if 
you  don't  stop  your  insultin'  talk  instantly  and  to  once ! 
You  can't  talk  no  such  stuff  in  the  house  of  her  who 
was  once  Smith,"  says  I,  glancin'  agin  at  the  teakettle, 
and  steppin'  up  a  little  nearer  to  it. 

"  Be  composed,  mum,"  says  he,  a  hitchin'  up  his 
15* 


408  THE  ELDER  WANTS  TO  ARGUE. 

chair  a  little  nearer  the  door ;  "Be  composed !     I  wa 
speakin'  in  a  strictly  religious  sense." 

Says  I,  "  You  can't  never  make  me  think  a  crime 
can  be  committed  religiously."  And  agin  I  looked 
longin'ly  at  that  teakettle. 

"  Compose  yourself  down,  mum,  and  let  us  argue  for 
a  brief  spell,"  says  he. 

His  tone  was  sort  o'  implorin'  and  beseechin'.  And 
he  took  a  plug  of  tobacco  out  of  his  coat-pocket,  and 
bit  a  great  chew  off'en  it,  and  put  it  into  his  mouth, 
I  s'pose  to  try  to  show  off  and  make  himself  attrac- 
tive. But  good  land  !  how  foolish  it  was  in  him.  He 
didn't  look  half  so  well  to  me  as  he  did  before,  and 
that  hain't  say  in'  but  a  very  little,  a  very  little  indeed. 

He  wadded  the  tobacco  all  up  on  one  side  of  his 
mouth,  till  his  cheek  stood  out  some  }ike  a  wen,  and 
the  tobacco-juice  started  and  run  down  on  each  side  of 
his  chin.  And  so,  havin'  fixed  himself,  I  s'pose,  so  his 
looks  suited  him,  he  says  agin : 

"  Less  argue  the  subject." 

I  see  that  here  was  the  chance  I  had  wanted  to  con- 
vince him  of  his  iniquity.  I  see  that  Duty  was  leadin' 
a  war-horse  up  in  front  of  me  all  saddled  and  bridled, 
ready  for  me  to  mount  and  career  onward  nobly  on 
the  path  of  Right. 

I  see  that  Duty  was  holdin'  in  this  charger  by  the 
martingills  with  one  hand,  and  with  the  other  she  was 
holdin'  out  a  pair  of  spurs  to  me.  And  though  never, 
never,  did  a  war-horse  look  so  prancin'  and  dangerous 


"LESS  ARGUE. 


A  DANGEROUS  WAR-HORSE.  4H 

to  me,  and  never  did  spurs  look  so  heavy  and  sharp 
and  tejus  to  my  achin'  heels,  yet  Josiah  Allen's  wife 
is  not  one  to  turn  her  back  to  Duty's  call — no,  my 
desire  to  battle  with  the  wrong,  my  martyrous  spirit 
curbed  me  in  and  let  me  hear  him  talk. 

And  he  went  on  to  tell  me  that  in  the  first  place  he 
wanted  to  lay  before  me  the  rise,  progress,  and  glory 
of  the  Mormon  Church.  Says  he,  "  In  the  first  place, 
you  know,  mum,  that  God  made  a  distinct  revelation 
to  us.  Our  bible  was  found  written  on  plates  of  gold. 
Them  plates  " — 

I  am  naturally  very  well-bread.  And  thinkin'  mebby 
it  would  influence  him  towards  the  right,  I  didn't  lay 
out  to  interrupt  him,  or  disturb  his  arguments,  till  he 
had  got  through  presentin'  of  'em.  But  the  idee  of 
such  imposture — imposture  in  the  name  of  God — so 
worked  on  me,  that  I  spoke  right  out,  in  a  firm,  digni- 
fied tone,  but  very  solemn: 

"  Elder  Judas  Wart,  you  jest  pass  them  plates." 

Says  he :  "  Why  should  I  pass  'em  ?  The  revelation 
of  God  is  written  on  'em." 

"Revelation!"  says  I.  "I  should  jest  as  soon  go 
into  my  buttery,  and  read  my  meat  plates  and  platters, 
as  to  read  'em.  I  should  find  jest  as  much  of  a  reve- 
lation on  'em."  And  agin  I  says,  with  dignity :  "  You 
pass  them  plates." 

Says  he :  "I  wont  pass  'em."  And  he  begun  agin, 
in  a  sort  of  a  boastin'  way :  "  September  22, 1827,  the 


412  A  POWERFUL  LESSON. 

angel  Moroni  placed  in  Joseph  Smith's  hand  our  Mor 
mon  bible,  or  that  is,  the  plates,  that " — 

Says  I:  "Hain't  I  told  you  to  pass  them  plates? 
Your  bible  is  a  romance  writ  by  Solomon  Spaulding 
jest  for  fun,  jest  to  see  how  near  he  could  write  like 
the  bible.  And  it  is  a  powerful  lesson  to  me,  and 
should  be  to  everybody,  of  the  terrible  harvest  that 
may  spring  up  from  one  careless,  thoughtless  deed. 
The  awful  consequences,  the  sin,  and  the  woe  that  fol- 
lowed that  one  irreverent,  thoughtless  act  might  well 
make  us  all  more  thoughtful,  more  mindful  of  the  ter- 
rible responsibility  that  follows  all  our  acts,  the  small- 
est as  well  as  {he  greatest.  We  can't  shake  off  that 
personal  responsibility.  It  follers  us  tight  as  our 
shadders  even  into  our  hours  of  recreation,  showin'  us 
that  we  should  not  only  work  nobly,  but  recreate  nobly 
and  innocently  and  reverently." 

«  But,"  says  he  "  them  plates  "— 

But  I  was  so  rousted  up  with  my  emotions,  that  1 
waved  out  my  right  hand  with  awful  dignity,  and  says 
I: 

"  You  shall  pass  them  plates." 

And  I  held  firm,  and  made  him  pass  'em.  And  he 
went  to  bringin'  up  the  miracles  that  had  been  done 
by  the  early  church — curing  the  lame  and  deaf,  healing 
the  sick,  and  et  cetery,  and  so  forth.  Says  he :  "I 
have  heard  that  you  are  a  woman  that  loves  reason  and 
fair  play,"  and  says  he,  "  you  can't  get  over  those  mir- 
acles, can  you  ?  " 


MORMON  MIRACLES.  415 

Says  I  candidly :  "  I  don't  want  to  get  over  no  mir- 
acles, and  hain't  tried  to.  But  I  can  say  with  the  poet, 
that  so  far  as  believin'  of  'em  is  concerned,  miracles  is 
sunthin'  I  had  ruther  see  done  myself  than  to  hear  of 
'em.  Howsumever,  I  hain't  a  goin'  to  say  that  you 
hain't  done  'em.  As  to  healin'  the  sick,  the  wonderful 
power  and  magnetism  one  strong  mind  can  exert  over 
a  weaker  one,  when  the  weaker  one  has  perfect  faith 
in  it,  has  a  great  many  times  performed  deeds  that 
looked  miracilas,  out  of  the  Mormon  church,  and  most 
probable  in  it.  But  even  if  you  have  raised  the  dead, 
which  I  don't  think  you  claim  you  have  done,  it  would 
make  me  no  more  a  believer  in  mormonism ;  for  we 
read  of  a  woman  not  religious,  who  did  that.  And  I 
never  hankered  after  keepin'  company  with  Miss  Endor, 
or  wanted  to  neighbor  with  her,  or  appear  like  her." 

"You  are  unreasonable,  mum,"  says  he. 

"I  don't  mean  to  be,"  says  I.  "I  have  allowed  all 
you  want  me  to,  and  more  too.  What  more  can  you 
want?" 

"  You  deride  our  holy  church.  Our  church  found- 
ered on  the  Commandments  of  God." 

"  Which  one  ? "  says  I  enquirin'ly. 

"Which  one?"  says  he  haughtily.  "Everyone  of 
'em ;  every  one  of  'em." 

"Wall,"  says  I  calmly  and  reasonably,  but  with 
quite  a  lot  of  dignity,  "  we'll  see."  And  I  was  risin' 
up  to  go  and  get  the  Bible  off  en  the  stand,  for  I  was 
determined  he  should  see  'em  in  black  and  white,  when 
he  spoke  out  haughtily  and  proudly : 


414      BRIGHAM  YOUNG,  "THE  MODEL  SAINT." 

"  Keep  your  seat,  mum ;  keep  your  seat.  I  have  the 
Bible  here  in  my  breast  pocket.  Our  church  bein' 
foundered  on  the  Commandments,  leanin'  up  aginst 
'em  as  we  do  for  all  our  strength  and  safety,  I  don't 
depend  on  Bibles  layin'  round  loose  on  stands,  and  so 
forth.  I  carry  a  copy  all  the  time  right  over  my  heart, 
or  pretty  near  over  it — on  the  left  side  of  my  vest, 
anyway." 

Says  I :  "  There  is  different  ways  of  carryin'  things 
in  the  heart.  But  that  is  a  deep  subject,  and  I  will 
not  begin  to  episode  upon  it,  for  if  I  should  begin,  no 
knowin'  how  fur  I  should  episode  to,  but  will  merely 
say  that  there  is  other  ways  of  carryin'  things  in  your 
heart  besides  carryin'  'em  in  your  vest  pocket.  But 
howsumever,  read  off  the  first  one."  And  he  read  it : 

"  Thou  shalt  have  no  other  Gods  before  me." 

He  read  it  off  jest  like  a  text.  And  the  minute  he 
stopped  I  begun  to  talk  on  it  a  good  deal  like  preachin', 
only  shorter ;  but  with  jest  about  the  same  dignity  and 
mean  that  preachers  have. 

Says  I,  in  that  firm,  preachin'  tone:  "You  have 
made  Brigham  Young  a  God.  Your  preacher,  whom 
you  call  a  *  model  saint,'  openly  avowed  that  he  was 
God.  You  have  pretended  to  believe,  and  have  taught 
to  the  people  his  blasphemus  doctrine  that  he  had 
power  to  save  souls  in  the  heavenly  kingdom,  or  to 
shut  'em  out  of  it."  Says  I :  "  I  could  spread  out  this 
awful  idee,  and  cover  hours  •fllth  it,  and  then  not  make 
it  very  thin,  either ;  there  is  so  much  that  could  be 


AN  IMAGE  OF  CLAY.  415 

said  on  the  awfulness  of  it.  But  I  have  got  nine  more 
jobs  jest  like  it  ahead  on  me  to  tackle,  so  enough,  and 
suffice  it  to  say,  fetch  on  your  next  one. 

He  was  goin'  to  branch  out  and  say  sunthin',  but  I 
held  to  my  first  idee,  and  wouldn't  let  him.  I  told 
him  if  1  argued  with  him  at  all,  he  had  got  to  read 
those  Commandments  off  jest  like  texts,  and  let  me 
preach  on  'em.  1  told  him  after  I  had  got  through 
with  'em,  then  he  could  rise  up  and  explain  his  mind, 
and  talk ;  but  jest  at  present  it  was  the  commands  of 
God  I  wanted  to  hear — not  the  words  of  Elder  Judas 
Wart.  And  I  held  firm,  and  made  him.  And  when 
he  would  begin  to  argue  I  would  call  for  another  one, 
and  kep'  him  at  it. 

"  Thou  shalt  not  make  unto  thee  any  graven  image 
*  *  *  *  thou  shalt  not  bow  down  to  them,  nor 
serve  them" — 

Says  I :  "  You  have  done  that  and  worse.  You  have 
worshipped  and  revered  an  image  of  clay — rather  weak 
clay,  too,  though  held  up  by  a  mighty  will  and  ambi- 
tion. Why,  most  anybody  would  say  that  a  graven 
image  would  be  sounder  than  he  was — more  sort  o' 
solid  and  substantial.  Anyway,  it  wouldn't  wobble 
round  as  he  wobbled,  preachin'  one  thing  to-day,  and 
denyin'  it  to-morrow,  jest  as  his  own  interests  dictated. 
And  the  graven  image  wouldn't  have  been  so  selfish 
and  graspin'  and  unscrupulus.  It  would  have  been 
fur  honester,  and  wouldn't  have  wanted  more'n  a  hun- 
dred wives.  But  that  image  of  clay,  such  as  it  was, 
you  sot  up  and  worshipped,  and  you  needn't  deny  it." 


416  SABBATH-BREAKING  MORMONS. 

He  didn't  try  to.  He  knew  it  wouldn't  be  no  use  to, 
and  says  he : 

"  Thou  shalt  not  take  the  name  of  the  Lord  thy  God 
in  vain." 

Says  I,  in  a  firm,  awful  axent,  "  You  have  taken  it 
in  vain,  the  weakest  kind  of  vanity,  and  you  have 
taken  it  wickedly,  the  wickedest  kind  of  wickedness, 
in  darin'  to  commit  this  sin  in  the  name  of  God." 

Says  he,  "Remember  the  Sabbath  day  to  keep  it 
holy." 

Says  I,  "You  have  kept  it  holy,  by  teachin'  this 
unholy  sin.  By  asscmblin'  at  the  tabernacle  to  listen 
to  words  so  low,  and  vulgar,  and  weak  that  they  would 
be  contemptible,  if  they  were  not  so  wicked  and  blas- 
phemous." 

Says  he,  "Honor  thy  father  and  thy  mother."  He 
spoke  up  awful  quick  and  some  haughty.  He  felt 
what  I  had  said,  I  knew  it  by  his  mean,  and  he  seemed 
to  read  this  with  a  air  as  if  this  was  sunthin'  he  could 
lean  aginst  hard,  and  nobody  could  hender  its  bein'  a 
support  to  him.  He  looked  sort  o'  independent  and 
overbearin'  at  me  as  he  finished  readin'  it,  and  he  spit 
on  the  floor  in  a  sort  of  a  proud  way. 

But  I  went  right  on,  in  a  deep  and  impressive  axent, 
and  says  I,  "  You  have  made  that  commandment  im- 
possible for  your  children  to  follow.  You  have  wick- 
edly deprived  your  children  of  one  of  the  holiest  and 
most  sacred  things  in  life.  A  child's  right  to  honor 
the  parents  they  love,  and  feel  it  their  duty  to  rever- 


MORMON  MURDERERS. 


41T 


ence.  But  how  can  anybody,  unless  he  is  a  fool  or  a 
luny,  honor  what  hain't  honorable  ?  How  can  a  child 
honor  a  parent  whose  hands  are  stained  with  innocent 
blood,  who  is  enriched  by  theft  and  rapine,  who  is 


living  in  open 
shame  —  in  open 
defiance  to  the 
commonest  rules 
of  morality — who 
breaks  all  the 

commandments  of  God,  and  calls  it  religion  ?  " 
Says  he,  "  Thou  shalt  not  kill." 
Says  I,  u  The  teachers  of  your  religion  say,  Thou 
shalt  kill,  if  it  is  for  the  safety  and  enrichment  of  the 
Mormon   church.      And,   following  their  commands 
instead  of  God's,  you  killed  one  hundred  and  20  inno- 


418  THE  FOUNDATIONS  OP  THE  MORMON  CHURCH. 

cent  men,  wimmen,  and  children  in  one  day.  And  how 
many  other  murders  have  been  committed  by  orders 
of  your  church,  in  those  lonely  deserts  and  mountain 
roads  and  canyons,  will  never  be  known  till  the 
searchin'  light  of  the  great  day  of  doom  reveals  all 
secret  things.  Why,"  says  I,  "  Brigham  Young  taught 
that  Mormons  should  shed  each  other's  blood  for  the 
remission  of  sins." 

He  looked  meachin',  very.  He  didn't  try  to  argue 
on  this — he  couldn't,  for  he  knew  I  could  prove  what  I 
had  said.  And  he  looked  meachiner  yet,  as  he  read 
the  next  one : 

"  Thou  shalt  not  commit  adultery." 

Says  I,  "  The  hull  Mormon  church  is  built  up  on  the 
ruins  of  this  broken  commandment,  and  you  know  it. 
And  you  teach  this  doctrine,  that  the  more  pieces  you 
break  this  commandment  into,  the  higher  it  is  goin'  to 
boost  you  up  into  heaven.  The  meaner  and  lower  you 
be  on  earth,  the  higher  place  you  will  have  in  the 
heavenly  kingdom —  " 

Says  he,  interruptin'  of  me  with  a  look  of  fearful 
meach  restin'  on  his  eyebrow,  and  speakin'  up  dretful 
quick : 

"  Thou  shalt  not  steal." 

Says  I,  "Your  church  teaches,  'thou  shalt  steal.' 
And  you  have  to  do  it  too,  and  you  know  it." 

Says  he,  "  Thou  shalt  not  bear  false  witness  against 
thy  neighbor." 

Says  I,  "Ask  the  unhappy  Gentiles  who  have  in- 


WHAT  THE  MORMONS  COVET  AND  GET.      419 

curred  the  displeasure  or  aroused  the  cupidity  of  the 
Mormon  church,  whether  the  Mormon  commandment, 
'  Thou  shalt  bear  false  witness  against  thy  neighbor,' 
has  not  been  followed,  and  followed,  too,  to  the  death." 

"  Thou  shalt  not  covet " — and  he  said  over  the  hull 
on  'em — wife,  property,  and  maidservant. 

Says  I,  "Your  church  teaches  thou  shalt  covet  'em, 
every  one  of  'em,  and  get  'em,  too,  the  hull  on  'em — 
wife,  property,  and  maidservant,  'specially  the  maid- 
servant." 

He  quailed.  And  right  there,  while  he  was  a  quail- 
in',  1  spoke,  and  says  coldly : 

"Now,  Elder  Judas  Wart,  you  have  read  off  the 
commandments  of  God,  one  by  one,  and  I  have 
preached  on  'em ;  now  tell  me,  and  tell  me  plain, 
which  one  do  you  lean  on  the  hardest?" 

Says  he,  "As  it  were — that  is,  you  know — " 

"  No ! "  says  I,  with  dignity,  "  I  don't  know,  nor  you 
don't,  nuther." 

Says  he,  "  I — that  is — you — you  are  unreasonable, 
mum."  And  he  looked  curious,  and  spit  fiercely  onto 
the  stone  hearth  and  the  floor. 

"I.  don't  mean  to  be,"  says  I.  "I  sot  out  in  this 
talk  with  principles  as  hefty  as  I  ever  hefted  in  my  life, 
and  if  I  hain't  a  good  judge  of  the  common  heft  of 
principles,  nobody  ever  was.  Why,"  says  I,  "the 
rights  and  wrongs  of  my  sect  has  for  years  been  held 
nearer  to  my  heart  than  any  earthly  object,  exceptin* 
my  Josiah.  And  I  can  tell  you,  and  tell  you  plain, 


420  ABOUT  POLYGAMY. 

that  I  have  laid  awake  nights  a  thinkin'  over  what  my 
sect  has  endured  a  settin'  under  that  Mormon  church. 
And  daytimes  I  have  sot  a  knittin'  and  thought  of  the 
agonies  of  them  female  wimmen  till  there  wuzn't  a 
dry  eye  in  my  head,  and  I  couldn't  tell  for  my  life 
whether  I  was  a  seamin'  or  a  knittin'  plain,  or  what 
I  was  a  doin'.  For  of  all  the  sufferin's  my  sect  has 
suffered  from  the  hands  of  man,  this  doctrine  of 
polygamy  is  the  very  crown,  the  crown  of  thorns. 
Other  wrongs  and  woes  have  spilte  earth  for  her  time 
and  agin,  but  this  destroys  her  hope  of  heaven.  When 
other  sorrows  and  wrongs  broke  her  heart,  killed  her, 
she  could  still  look  to  the  time  when  she  could  take  the 
hand  of  Death,  the  Healer,  and  he  would  lead  her  into 
Repose,  give  her  the  peace  earth  had  denied  her.  She 
could  think  that  all  her  burdens  of  sorrows  and  wrongs 
would  drop  from  her  into  the  grave ;  and  in  that  laud 
where  all  tears  are  wiped  away — that  land  of  eternal 
beauty — of  sweet  consolation  for  the  weary — she  could 
find  rest.  But  this  last  hope  of  the  broken-hearted, 
your  accursed  doctrine  has  destroyed.  Your  infamous 
belief  teaches  that  if  a  woman  won't  do  wrong,  won't 
submit  to  man's  tyrannical  will  on  earth,  commit  sin 
for  his  sake,  he  won't  let  her  go  to  heaven!  Good 
land!"  says  I,  "it  makes  me  sweat  to  think  on't." 
And  I  wiped  my  forward  on  my  apron. 

Says  he :  "  As  it  were,  you  know." 

"No,  I  don't  know  it,"  says  1  warmly.  "Nor  I 
never  shall  know  it." 


AN  ABOMINABLE  DOCTRINE.  421 

Says  he :  "  And  so  forth,  and  so  on." 

He  acted  embarassed  and  skairt,  and  well  he  might. 
Why,  the  abomination  of  their  doctrine  is  so  abominable, 
that  when  it  is  presented  to  'em  in  a  eloquent,  high- 
toned  way  by  a  woman  who  talks  but  little,  but  that 
little  earnest  and  deep ;  when  she  places  it  before  'em 
in  the  axent  she  always  handles  when  talkin'  on  prin- 
ciple, and  with  the  soarin',  deep  look  of  her  spectacles 
she  always  uses  on  them  occasions — why,  it  is  enough 
to  skair  anybody  to  death. 

But  in  a  moment  or  so  he  sort  o'  rousted  up,  and 
says  he : 

"  If  you  think  so  much  of  female  wimmen  as  you  say 
you  do,  I  should  think  you  would  think  about  what  the 
position  of  these  plural  wives  would  be  if  polygimy 
were  abolished.  What  would  they  be  thought  of? 
What  would  they  be  ?  " 

Says  I,  in  awful  tones :  "  What  be  they  now  ?  " 

"  Wall,"  says  he,  "if  they  should  be  divorced  they 
wouldn't  be  looked  upon  as  they  are  now." 

"  No,"  says  I,  "  that  is  very  true ;  they  wouldn't,  not 
at  all,  not  by  me." 

Says  he  :  "  They  would  be  looked  down  upon  more." 

Says  I,  with  dignity :  "  Stoppin'  sinnin'  hadn't  ort 
to  make  anybody  thought  less  on,"  says  I.  That 
hain't  accordin'  to  my  creed  or  my  skripter." 

Says  he:  "If  they  was  divorced  their  situation 
would  be  very  painful  and  humiliatin'." 

Says  I,  very  dryly :  "  It  is  now,  in  my  estimation." 


422  TALKS  ABOUT  CHILDBRN. 

Says  he :  "  Look  at  the  position  of  the  childern  of 
these  unions,  that  would  be  left  fatherless.  What  a 
sad  scene  it  would  be ;  helpless  infancy  made  a  mark 
for  contumely  and  sneers ;  babyhood  blamed,  scorned." 

Says  I :  "  They  wouldn't  be  scorned,  not  by  anybody 
whose  scorn  would  be  worth  bavin'.  Nobody  but  a 
fool  or  a  luny  is  in  the  habit  of  blamin'  folks  for 
doin'  what  they  can't  help  doin',  and  bein'  what  they 
can't  help  bein'.  Blame  the  childern!  Why,  good 
land ! "  says  I,  "  I  should  jest  as  soon  set  out  and  scold 
a  mornin'-glory  or  a  white  violet  for  the  looks  of  the 
ground  they  sprung  from.  God's  own  purity  is  writ 
in  the  clear  eyes  of  babyhood,  and  in  the  blue  heart  of 
them  mornin'-glories.  Blossoms  of  light,  mornin'- 
glories,  springin',  God  knows  how  or  why,  out  of  the 
black  mould,  out  of  darkness  and  decay.  Who  could 
look  scofnn'ly  or  irreverently  on  'em,  or  on  them  other 
blossoms  of  innocence,  springin'  as  mysteriously  from 
as  dark  a  soil,  and  touched  by  the  hand  of  God  with 
as  pure  and  divine  a  beauty." 

"Unpractical,  unpractical  female,  led  away  as  fe- 
males ever  are  by  sympathies  and  views  of  right  and 
wrong.  Oh!  thank  Heaven!  thank  Heaven!  such 
dangerous  qualities  are  not  incorporated  into  politics. 
I  should  tremble  for  the  nation  if  it  were  so." 

And  agin  he  looked  fiercely  at  the  stove-hearth. 

"Unpractical  female,  what  would  become  of  the 
childern  left,  as  it  were,  fatherless  ?" 

Says  I:  "If  the  parents  of  the  childern  are  rich 


AN  UNCLE  TO  BE  PROUD  OF.  423 

enough,  let  'em  support  'em;  and  the  poor  ones — I 
know  a  man  who  will  adopt  the  hull  lot,  and  be  glad 
of  the  chance,"  says  I  proudly.  "  It  is  a  uncle  of  mine, 
a  uncle  I  am  proud  to  own.  Samuel  is  his  name,  and 
nobility  and  generosity  ia  his  nater."  Says  I:  "Let 
these  childern  and  the  wimmen,  if  necessary,  be  took 
care  of  by  the  government,  and  let  the  evil  end  with 
this  generation." 

"  But  what  would  the  position  of  these  wimmen  be 
in  society ;  what  would  they  be? " 

"What  be  they  now?"  says  I  agin.  And  I  snapped 
out  that "  now  "  considerable  snappish,  for  I  was  gettin' 
a  good  deal  wore  out  with  him.  Says  I :  "  You  seem 
to  think  it  would  be  the  death-blow  to  their  reputation 
to  stop  sinnin',  stop  livin'  in  wickedness ;  but  there  is 
where  you  and  I  differ.  I  should  think  as  much  agin 
of  'em." 

And  says  I :  "  If  a  evil  is  a  goin'  to  stop,  it  has  got 
to  begin  to  stop  sometime,  or  else  it  won't  never  get 
stopped.  More  of  these  unholy  unions  have  taken 
place  durin'  the  past  year  than  ever  before  in  the  same 
length  of  time.  Powerful  efforts  are  bein'  made  to 
strengthen  and  extend  the  power  of  the  system.  And 
it  must  either  be  stopped,  or  else  go  on  widening  and 
spreading,  and  destroying  this  beautiful  new  world  as  it 
destroyed  so  many  other  strong,  proud  nations  that  were 
glorious  in  the  past."  Says  I :  "  Can  I  set  still  and 
see  it  go  on,  and  can  Josiah  set  still,  and  other  female 


424  TALKING  TURKEY. 

pardners,  and  other  Josiahs,  and  not' long  to  lift  a  hand 
to  turn  back  this  flood  of  woe  and  desolation?" 

Here  Josiah  groaned  aloud.  He  had  his  thoughts 
there  on  that  lounge,  though  he  lay  middlin'  still.  His 
thoughts  goared  him  worse  than  that  stitch  did,  ten 
times  over.  And  I  felt  sorry  for  him,  my  feelin's  for 
him  are  such  ;  and  I  brought  his  name  in  in  a  friendly 
way,  just  because  my  love  for  him  was  so  strong,  and 
I  forgive  him  so. 

Says  I:  "Elder  Judas  Wart,  I  won't  take  you  back 
to  the  old  Jewish  nations,  round  by  Italy,  Spain,  and 
other  roundabout  ways,  as  I  might  do,  and  as  some 
wimmen  who  are  more  talkative  than  I  be  probable 
would,  and  show  you  all  the  way  the  ruins  of  the 
nations  ruined  by  this  crime  of  polygimy.  But  I  am 
a  woman  who  says  but  little,  but  that  little  I  mean,  and 
I  will  merely  hold  up  Turkey  before  you.  And  while 
I  am  holdin'  up  that  Turkey,  I  will  merely  mention  the 
fact  to  you,  that  you  and  everybody  else  knows,  and 
that  Turkey  knows  it  well,  and  if  it  should  speak  up 
and  own  the  truth  it  would  say  that  it  was  the  effects 
of  this  system  that  made  it  so  weak  and  impotent. 
Weaker  as  a  nation  than  our  old  turkey-gobbler ;  fur 
weaker  than  a  hen-turkey.  (I  make  use  of  the  gobbler 
as  a  poetical  metafor,  and  would  wish  to  be  so  under- 
stood.) 

"Will  not  America  and  Josiahs  heed  these  warn- 
in's?"  says  I,  lookin'  right  up  at  the  ceilin',  in  a 
rapped  way.  "Will  they  not  listen  to  the  voice  of 


A  VOICE  FROM  OLD  BABYLON.  42'j 

doom  that  rises  from  the  ruins  of  other  nations, 
glorious  and  proud  and  strong  in  the  past,  that  has 
crumbled  into  ashes  from  the  effects  of  this  sin  ?  Will 
they  not,"  I  went  on  in  a  still  more  rapped,  eloquent 
way,  "  will  they  not  bend  down  their  ears  and  hear  the 
wail  of  warnin'  that  seems  to  float  along  over  the  dust 
of  the  desert  from  old  Babylon  herself,  warnin'  to  this 
new,  fresh,  western  world  to  escape  this  enervating 
destroyi*'  sin,  and  escape  her  doom  ?  Will  not  Amer- 
ica and  Josiahs  take  warnin  by  the  fate  of  these 
nations  ?  or  will  they  go  on  in  careless  merriment  and 
feastin',  unheedin'  those  terrible  words  '  mean!  mean! ' 
writ  up  in  the  blue  vault  above,  till  it  is  too  late ;  till 
the  land  is  given  to  the  enimy ;  till  weakness,  ruin,  and 
decay  take  the  septer  from  Columbia's  tremblin', 
shakin'  grasp,  and  rain  over  this  once  strong,  lovely 
land." 

I  sithed,  I  almost  wept — I  was  so  fearfully  agitated 
— and  says  I :  "If  this  threat'nin'  doom  that  threatens 
our  beloved  land  is  to  be  averted,  if  this  evil  is  to  be 
stopped,  when  is  there  *a  better  time  than  the  present 
to  stop  it  in,  now,"  says  I,  wipin'  my  eyes  on  my 
apron,  "now,  while  America  has  got  me  to  help  her  ? " 
And  agin  I  sithed,  and  agin  I  almost  shed  tears,  and 
wept. 

He  see  my  agitation,  and  took  advantage  of  it.    Says 

he :  "  You  seem  to  be  tender-hearted,  Josiah  Allen's 

wife,  and  to  have  a  great  affection  for  the  female  sect, 

and  yet  you  don't  seem  to  think  of  the  hearts  that 

16 


426  THE  PATH  TO  BLESSEDNESS. 

would  be  wrung  by  the  agony  of  seperation.  Why," 
says  he,  "if  they  should  part  with  their  companions, 
they  would  be  unhappy." 

Says  I,  lookin'  out  of  the  open  window,  fur  away 
over  the  tree-tops,  over  the  blue  lake  beyond — and 
beyond — 

My  spectacles  seemed  to  look  very  fur  off.  They 
had  a  very  deep  and  sort  o'  soarin'  look  to  'em,  some- 
what happy,  and  somewhat  sorrowful  and,  solemn. 
And  says  I: 

"  I  don't  know  as  there  has  any  law  ever  been  made, 
in  Heaven  or  on  earth,  that  we  had  got  to  be  happy. 
There  is  a  law  made  that  we  should  do  right,  should 
not  do  evil,  but  not  that  we  must  be  happy.  Why, 
some  paths  we  have  to  foller  lead  right  away  from  hap- 
piness. And  says  I,  still  lookin'  fur  off,  in  that  same 
sort  of  a  solemn,  deep  way : 

"  That  path  always  leads  to  something  better,  more 
beautiful,  more  divine." 

"  What  can  be  better  than  happiness  ?  "  says  he,  in 
a  enquirin'  way.  • 

"  Blessedness ! "  says  I.  "  The  two  hain't  to  be  com- 
pared no  more  than  a  flower  growin'  out  of  earthly 
soil  is  to  be  compared  to  one  springin'  up  in  the  valleys 
of  God.  One  is  lit  with  earth's  sun,  and  the  other  is 
shinin'  with  Heaven's  own  light.  One  is  mortal,  the 
other  immortal." 

Says  he,  still  follerin'  up  his  old  theme,  still  tryin' 
to  head  me  off  in  some  way : 


WRETCHEDNESS  OF  MORMON  WOMEN.        427 


"Wouldn't  you  be  sorry  for  these  females,  Josiah 
Allen's  wife?" 

Says  I  firmly :  "  If  they  suffered  from  the  wrenchin' 
away  of  old  ties,  I  should  be  sorry  for  'em  to  that 
extent  that  there  wouldn't  be  a  sithe  left  in  my  breast, 
nor  a  dry  eye  in  my  head.  At  the  same  time,  if  they 
made  the  sacrifice  willin'ly,  from  a  sense  of  duty,  for 
the  ransom  of  their  people,  for  the  deliverance  of  the 
land  from  peril,  my  very  soul  would  kneel  in  reverence 
to  them,  and  they  should  be  honored  by  all  as  those 
who  come  out  of  great  tribulations. 

"  But,"  says  I,  in  a  slower,  more  thoughtful  way, 
"  there  is  different  kinds  of  tribulations.  And  you  can 
look  at  subjects  with  the  sentimental  eye  of  your 
specks,  and  then  agin  you  can  turn  the  other  eye  onto 
'em.  And  in  lookin'  through  that  other  eye  at  'em, 
you  might  possibly  see  that  the  married  life  of  these 
plural  wives  is  wretched — full  of  jealousies,  divisions, 
and  sizms. 

"  Woman's  love,  when  it  has  room  to  grow,  is  a  tre- 
mendous thing  to  spread  itself.  But  (still  lookin' 
through  that  common  sense  eye  of  our  specks)  we 
would  say  that  the  divine  plant  of  love  can't  grow  so 
thrifty  in  one-twentieth  part  of  a  man's  heart  as  it 
could  in  a  more  expanded  and  roomy  place.  We 
would  say  (still  lookin'  through  that  eye)  that  it  was 
too  cramped  a  spot — some  like  growin'  a  oak  in  a  bot- 
tle. You  can  make  it  sprout ;  but  there  can't  be  so 
deep  roots  nor  so  strong  a  strength  to  it,  and  it 


428  SUFFERIN'  WIFE  NUMBER  ONE. 

wouldn't  take  nigh  so  much  of  a  pull  to  wrench  it  up 
by  the  roots. 

"  And  so,  to  f oiler  up  the  simely,  as  simelys  ort  to 
be  follered,  we  would  think  that  the  first  wife  is  the 
one  who  would  suffer  most ;  she  who  thought  she  was 
marryin'  a  hull  man,  who  dwelt  for  awhile  in  a  hull 
heart,  and  whose  affections,  therefore,  had  naturally 
took  deep  root,  and  spread  themselves.  We  would  say 
(still  lookin'  through  that  eye  of  the  speck,  and  still 
follerin'  up  simelys)  that  she  is  the  one  who  would  be 
most  wrung  with  agony." 

""  Wall,"  says  Elder  Judas  Wart,  seemin'ly  ketchin' 
holt  of  the  first  argument  that  presented  itself  in  front 
of  his  mind,  for  truly  he  didn't  seem  to  care  how 
crooked  his  argument  was,  nor  how  wobblin'.  Says 
he: 

"  Sufferin'  is  a  divine  agent  to  draw  souls  heaven- 
ward." 

"Yes,  heaven-sent  suffering"  says  I,  "  will  draw  our 
hearts  up  nearer  to  the  heavenly  home  it  come  from. 
But  when  sufferin'  comes  up  from  below,  from  another 
place,  scented  with  brimstone,  and  loaded  with  iniquity, 
it  will  do  its  best  to  draw  us  down  to  it  where  it  come 
from." 

"  Pain  sometimes  teaches  divine  lessons,"  says  Elder 
Judas  Wart.  And  I  never  see  a  mouth  puckered  and 
twisted  down  into  a  more  hypocritical  pucker  than 
hisen  was. 

Says  I:   "Don't  you  s'pose  I  know  that?"    And 


THE  MINISTRY  OF  SORROW.  429 

then  I  went  on  awful  eloquent,  and  grew  eloquenter 
and  eloquenter  all  the  time  for  as  much  as  five  min- 
utes or  more,  entirely  unbeknown  to  me,  not  thinkin' 
who  was  there,  or  who  I  was  a  talkin'  to,  or  where,  or 
when : 

"  Don't  I  know,"  says  I,  "  that  no  soul  has  reached 
its  full  might,  no  soul  has  ever  really  lived,  till  it  has 
learned  to  bless  God  for  the  divine  ministry  of  sorrow  ? 
Don't  I  certainly  know  that  of  all  God's  angels  the 
one  who  brings  us  divinest  gifts  is  the  blessed  angel 
of  Paiu?" 

And  I  went  on  again,  in  that  fearfully  eloquent  way 
of  mine,  when  I  get  entirely  rousted  up  in  eloquence, 
and  know  not  where  I  am,  or  who  is  hearin'  of  me,  or 
why,  or  which : 

"  If  we  bar  this  angel  from  our  door,  resist  her  gen- 
tle voice  pleadin'  at  our  heart,  woe  be  to  us ;  for  she 
can  come  as  a  avenger,  a  destroyer.  But  if  we  greet 
her  as  indeed  a  heavenly  visitant,  believe  that  God  sent 
her,  hold  her  in  our  weak  arms  close  to  our  hearts,  she 
gives  us  divinest  strength. 

"  Though  we  turn  away,  and  fear  her  greeting,  we 
find  that  the  touch  of  her  lips  on  our  burning  brow 
leaves  calm.  She  lays  on  our  throbbing,  aching  hearts 
soft  hands  of  peace.  Her  eyes  have  a  sorry  look  for 
us,  that  make  our  tears  flow,  and  then  we  see  that 
those  sad,  sweet  eyes  are  looking  up  from  earth  to 
where  our  own,  tear-blinded,  are  fain  to  follow — up 
beyond  the  vail,  into  that  beautiful  city  where  our 
treasures  and  our  hopes  are. 


430 


A  HEAVENLY  MESSENGER. 


To  no  other  angel  has  God  given  the  power  to  so 
reveal  to  us  the  glory  and  the  mystery  of  life  and 

of  death.  No  other 
hand  but  hers  has 
such  power  to  unlock 
the  very  doors  of  hea- 
ven and  send  down 
into  our  hearts  hea- 
ven's peace  and  glory. 


AN  ANGEL  OF  PEACE. 


Don't  I  know  this  ?  don't  I  know  that  in  the  hour  of 
our  bitterest  sorrow,  our  deepest  affliction,  when  the 


BEELZEBUB'S  OWN  TIMBER.  431 

one  that  made  our  world  lies  silent  before  us,  deaf  for 
the  first  time  to  our  tears  and  our  sorrow;  when  all 
the  world  looks  black  and  desolate,  and  hatred  and 
envy  and  malice  seem  to  surround  us,  and  our  human 
strength  is  gone,  and  human  help  is  vain ;  don't  I 
know  that  this  divine  angel  of  Pain  opens  the  very 
doors  of  Heaven,  and  lets  down  a  perfect  flood  of  glory 
into  our  soul — not  happiness,  but  blessedness. 

"  Yes,  the  crosses  this  angel  brings  us  from  a  lovin' 
Father  we  will  bear  in  God's  name.  But,"  says  I, 
firmly,  "  other  folks  must  do  as  they  are  a  mind  to ; 
but  I  never  will,  not  if  I  know  it,  bend  my  back,  and 
let  old  Belzebub  lay  one  of  his  crosses  acrost  my 
shoulder-blades.  No,  I  will  throw  off  that  cross,  and 
stamp  onto  it.  And  this  cross  of  Mormonism  is  one 
of  hisen,  if  he  erer  had  one.  It  is  made  out  of  Belze- 
bub's  own  timber,  nailed  together  by  man's  selfishness 
and  brutality  and  cruelty,  the  very  worst  part  of  his 
nature.  It  is  one  of  the  very  heaviest  crosses  ever 
tackled  by  wimmen,  and  bore  along  by  'em,  wet  with 
their  blood  and  sweat  and  tears.  And  Samantha  will 
do  her  best  to  stamp  onto  'em,  every  one  of  'em,  and 
break  'em  up  into  kindlin'-wood,  and  build  fires  with 
'em  to  burn  up  this  putryfyin'  crime  of  polygimy,  root 
and  branch;  make  a  cleansin'  blaze  of  it  to  try  to 
purify  God's  sweet  air  it  has  defiled." 

"  Oh ! "  says  Elder  Judas  Wart,  with  a  low  deep 
groan,  "  oh !  how  unpractical  females  always  are. 
Females  are  carried  away  by  their  sympathies  and 


432  SHIFTLESSNESS  AND  INDUSTRY. 

religious  feelings  and  sense  of  right  and  duty,  making 
them  a  most  dangerous  element  in  politics,  a  very 
striking  and  unwholesome  contrast  to  the  present 
admirable  system  of  government,  if  they  were  ever 
incorporated  into  the  body  politic  ;  in  short,  if  they 
ever  vote.  Let  us  look  on  the  subject  in  a  practical 
light." 

And  I  was  so  beat  out  by  my  eloquent  emotions 
(such  emotions  are  beautiful  to  have  by  you,  but 
fatiguin'  to  handle,  as  1  handle  'em,  and  1  can't  deny 
it);  and  bein'  also  almost  completely  out  of  wind,  I  sot 
still,  and  let  him  go  on. 

And  he  talked,  I  should  judge,  well  on  to  a  quarter 
of  a  hour  about  Communism,  Socialism,  its  principles, 
its  rise,  and  progress ;  and  I  let  him  go  on,  and  didn't 
hardly  say  a  word,  only  I  would  merely  throw  in  little 
observations  occasionally,  such  as,  when  he  argued 
that  everybody  should  own  the  same  amount  of  prop- 
erty, and  there  should  be  no  rich  and  no  poor. 

I  merely  threw  in  this  question  to  him :  Whether  he 
thought  shiftlessness  and  laziness  should  have  the 
same  reward  as  industry  and  frugality  ? 

And  when  he  was  a  goin'  on  about  everybody  bein' 
educated  the  same  so  one  could  not  be  intellectually 
superior  to  the  other,  I  simply  asked  him  whether  he 
thought  Nature  was  a  Socialist. 

Says  he:  "Why?" 

"  Oh !  "  says  I,  "  I  was  a  thinkin'  if  she  was  one, 
she  didn't  live  up  to  her  belief.  She  didn't  equalize 
brains  and  thrift  and  economy." 


THE  HEARTH-STUN.  433 

"  Wall,  as  I  was  a  sajin'  "  says  he,  "  as  it  were,  you 
know  " — 

"  No,"  says  I,  coldly,  "  I  don't  know  it,  nor  I  never 
did.  I  know,"  says  I,  lookin'  keen  at  him,  "  that  some 
are  born  almost  fools,  and  keep  on  so ;  and  some," 
says  I,  with  a  sort  of  modest,  becomin'  look,  "  some 
are  very  smart." 

He  kep'  perfectly  still  for  a  minute,  or  mebby  a 
minute  and  a  4.  And  he  seemed  to  collect  his  strength 
agin,  and  broke  out,  in  a  loud,  haughty  tone : 

"  The  fault  of  our  old  civilization  is  that  property  is 
controlled  by  the  few.  How  can  a  man  have  the  same 
love  for  his  home,  for  his  hearth-stone,  if  he  works  the 
land  of  some  great  landed  proprietor  ?  In  case  of  war, 
now,  foreign  invasion,  if  each  man  owned  property  of 
his  own,  if  each  man  was  a \Mormon,  in  fact,  he  would 
be  fighting  for  his  own  interest ;  not  for  the  interest  of 
some  great  landed  lord.  He  would  be  fightin'  for  his 
own  hearth-stone  ;  the  sacred  and  holy  hearth-stone." 

Says  I,  in  reasonable  axents :  "  I  hain't  a  word  to 
aginst  the  sacredness  of  the  hearth-stun.  I  hain't  a 
word  to  say  aginst  the  stun.  But  wouldn't  it  be  apt  to 
take  off  a  little  of  the  sacredness  of  the  stun  to  have 
thirty  or  forty  wimmen  a  settin'  on  it ;  each  claimin'  it 
as  her  own  stun  ?  Wouldn't  it  have  to  be  a  pretty  large 
stun,  and  a  pretty  firm  one,  to  stand  the  gusts  and  whirl- 
winds of  temper  that  would  be  raised  round  it  ?  And 
to  tell  the  plain  truth,  Elder  Judas  Wart,  don't  you 

believe  that  every  man  that  owned  such  a  stun,  and  30 
16* 


434  NO  ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  THALOS. 

or  40  wimmen  a  settin'  on  it,  and  childern  accordin'ly, 
don't  you  believe  that  such  a  man  instead  of  discour- 
agin'  war  would  do  all  in  his  power  to  welcome  and 
encourage  it,  so  he  could  go  forth  into  the  battle-field, 
and  find  a  little  peace  and  repose ;  that  is,  if  he  was  a 
gentle,  amiable  man,  who  loved  quiet?" 

He  never  said  one  word  in  answer  to  this  deep  argu- 
ment, he  see  it  was  too  deep  and  sound  for  him  to 
grapple  with  ;  but  he  kep'  right  on,  and  says,  thinkin' 
mebby  it  would  skair  me,  says  he : 

"  Our  order  was  founded  by  Thalos  of  Chalcedon." 

"  Wall,"  says  I,  "  Mr.  Thalos  is  a  man  that  I  hain't 
no  acquaintance  with, — I,  nor  Josiah ;  so  I  can't  form 
any  opinion  what  sort  of  a  character  he  has  got,  or 
what  for  a  man  he  would  be  to  neighbor  with." 

Says  he,  in  a  still  prouder  and  haughtier  way: 
"  Plato  believed  in  it." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  says  I.  "  He  never  told  me 
that  he  did.  If  he  had,  I  should  have  argued  sound 
with  him."  And  says  I,  lookin'  keen  and  searchin'  at 
him: 

"Did  he  tell  you  that  he  believed  in  it?"  says  I. 
"  You  can  hear  most  anything." 

"  Why,  no,"  says  he,  "  he  didn't  tell  me.  He  died 
twenty-two  hundred  years  ago." 

"  Wall,"  says  I,  coolly,  "  I  thought  you  got  it  by 
hearsay.  1  didn't  believe  you  got  it  from  the  old 
gentleman  himself,  or  from  any  of  his  relations.  I 
remember  Mr.  Plato  myself,  now.  I  have  heard 


MR.  PLATO.  436 


Thomas  J.  read  about  him  frequent.  A  sort  of  a 
schoolmaster,  I  believe — a  man  that  travelled  a  good 
deal — and  had  considerable  of  a  noble  mean.  If  I 
remember  right,  I  have  seen  him  myself  on  a  bust. 
But  as  I  was  a  sayin',  s'posen  Mr.  Plato  did  believe  in 
it.  Don't  you  s'pose  that  old  gentleman  had-  his  faults  ? 
He  was  a  nice  old  man,  and  very  smart.  His  writings 
are  truly  beautiful  and  inspirin'. 

"  Why  some  of  his  dialogues  are  almost  as  keen  and 
sensible  and  flowery  as  them  that  have  taken  place 
between  a  certain  woman  that  I  won't  mention  the 
name  of,  and  her  pardner  Josiah.  Why,  jest  the  fact 
that  he  got  sold  once  for  talkin'  so  plain  in  the  cause 
of  Right,  endeared  him  to  me.  And  the  fact  that  he 
didn't  fetch  only  twenty  minnys  (and  we  all  know 
what  small  fish  they  be)  didn't  make  him  seem  any 
the  less  valuable  to  me.  No,  not  at  all  so ;  it  wouldn't, 
if  he  hadn't  fetched  more  than  one  little  chub. 

"  Them  views  of  his'en,  them  witherin'  idees  aginst 
tyrany  that  he  was  preachin'  to  a  tyrent,  whales 
couldn't  lug,  nor  sharks.  They  was  too  big  and  hefty 
to  be  bought  or  sold.  But  because  Mr.  Plato  was  all 
right  in  some  things,  we  mustn't  think  he  was  in  all. 
We  are  apt  to  think  so,  and  we  are  apt  to  think  that 
that  because  a  gulf  of  a  thousand  or  two  years  lay 
between  us  and  a  certain  person,  that  it  seperates  them 
from  all  our  mortal  errors  and  simplicities. 

"  But  it  hain't  so.  That  old  man  had  other  human 
weaknesses  besides  writin'  poetry.  I  persume  Miss 


436 


AN  ANCIENT  FAMILY. 


Plato  had  to  deal  real  severe  with  him  lots  of  times, 
jest  as  I  do  with  Josiah.  I  dare  persume  to  say  she 
had  hard  work  to  get  along  with  him  more'n  half  the 

time.     And  if  lie  believed  in  Mor- 
i 

monism,  he   believed   in    sunthin' 
wicked   and  abominable,  and  if  I 


MR.ANO  MRS.  PLATO. 


had  been  on  intimate  terms  with  him  and  her,  I  should 
have  talked  to  him  like  a  sister,  right  before  her,  so  she 
would  feel  all  right  about  it,  and  not  get  oncasy  and 
jealous.  I  should  have  talked  powerful  to  him,  and  if 
ho  is  the  man  I  take  him  to  be,  I  could  have  convinced 
him  in  ten  minutes,  I  know  I  could." 


AWFUL  DIGNITY.  437 


"Wall,"  says  he,  "bringin'  the  history  of  our  church 
down  to  Christ's  day  :  He  was  a  believer  in  it." 

I  riz  right  up  in  a  awful  dignity  and  power,  and  1 
says,  in  a  tone  that  was  fearful  to  hear,  it  was  so 
buriiin'  indignant : 

"  You  say  that  agin  in  my  house,  if  you  dare." 

He  dassent,  my  tone  was  such.  He  never  said  a 
word,  but  sot  kinder  scroochin'  and  meachin'  on  his 
chair,  and  I  went  on,  rcsumin'  my  scat  agin,  knowin' 
as  I  did  that  my  principles  was  so  hefty  I  had  better 
save  myself  all  the  extra  weariness  that  I  could. 
Says  I : 

"  You  dare  to  say  that  He,  the  Deliverer  of  His 
people  from  sin  and  evil — He,  the  Teacher  of  all 
purity,  morality,  honesty,  and  all  Christian  virtues, 
who  came  bringin'  peace  on  earth,  good  will  to  men 
— He,  who  taught  that  a  man  should  have  one  wife, 
and  be  tender  and  constant  to  her,  even  as  He  loved 
the  Church  and  gave  Himself  for  it — He,  whose  life 
was  so  pure  and  self-denyin'  and  holy  that  it  brought 
the  divine  down  to  the  comprehension  of  the  human — 
the  love  and  purity  of  God  manifest  in  the  flesh — how 
dare  you  tell  me  that  He  was  a  Mormon  ? " 

He  dassent  say  it  agin.  He  dast  as  well  die  as  to 
say  it.  I  s'pose,  in  fact  I  know,  from  my  feelin's 
which  I  was  a  feelin',  that  my  mean  was  awfuler  and 
more  majesticker  than  it  had  been  for  years  and  years. 

Says  he,  "As  it  were — "  and  then  he  stopped  short 
off,  seemin'ly  to  collect  his  thoughts  together,  and  then 


438  THE  DAVID. 


he  kinder  coughed,  and  begun  agin — "And  so  forth, 
and  so  on,"  says  he.  He  acted  fairly  afraid.  And  I 
don't  wonder  at  it  a  mite.  My  looks  must  have  been 
awful,  and  witherin'  in  the  extreme. 

But  finally  he  says,  "  We  read  of  this  sect  in  the 
Bible,  anyway.  The  Essenes  was  Mormons,  or  sort  o' 
Mormony,"  says  he,  glancin'  at  me  and  then  at  the 
teakettle,  in  a  sort  of  a  fearful  way. 

But  says  I,  coldly,  "  We  read  in  the  Bible  of  droves 
of  swine  that  was  full  of  evil  spirits  ;  and  we  read  in 
it  of  lunaticks,  and  barren  fig-trees,  and  Judas,  and 
the — the  David — callin'  him  David,  as  a  Methodist  and 
member  of  the  meetin'-house,  who  does  not  want  to 
say  Satan  if  she  can  possibly  help  it. 

"Now,"  says  I,  "you  have  brought  up  every  com- 
mandment of  God,  and  I  have  preached  on  'em,  and 
you  find  every  one  of  'em  is  aginst  you — the  old  law, 
and  the  divine  new  law  made  manifest  in  Christ. 
Now,"  says  I,  coolly,  leanin'  back  in  my  chair,  full  of 
martyrdom  and  eloquence  and  victory  and  everything, 
"  bring  on  your  next  argument,  bring  it  right  here,  and 
let  me  lay  holt  of  it,  and  vanquish  it,  and  overthrow 
it" 

"Wall,"  says  he,  "I  hold  that  the  perfect  faith  that 
thousands  have  in  our  religion  and  its  founder,  is  one 
of  the  very  strongest  proofs  of  its  divine  origin." 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  says  I.  "  Faith  is  the  substance 
of  things  hoped  for,  but  things  don't  always  turn  out 
to  be  what  you  hoped  they  was.  Now,  there  is  haah, 


CONFIDENCE  AND  COMPLEXION.  439 


for  instance :  and  in  order  to  enjoy  hash,  you  have  got 
to  have  perfect  confidence  in  it  and  its  maker.  But 
still  you  may  have  that  perfect  confidence  in  it,  and 
eat  it  in  faith,  belie vin'  it  is  good  beef  and  pork,  while 
at  the  same  time  there  may  be  ingredients  in  it  that 
you  know  not  of,  such  as  Sketch  snuff,  lily  white,  hair- 
pins, and  etcetery.  Hash  is  a  great  mystery,  and  often 
deceivin'  to  the  partaker,  no  matter  how  strong  his 
faith  in  it  may  be. 

"And  I  might  f oiler  up  this  strikin'  simely  of  hash 
into  other  eloquent  metafors,  such  as  pills,  preachin', 
wimmen's  complexion,  and  etcetery.  Some  is  good 
and  true,  and  some  hain't  good  and  true,  but  they  all 
find  somebody  to  believe  in  'em. 

"  This  is  a  very  deep  subject,  and  solemn,  if  handled 
solemnly.  I  have  handled  it  only  in  a  light  parable 
way,  showin'  that  them  that  do  honestly  believe  in  this 
Mormon  doctrine,  if  there  are  any,  are  partakin'  (un- 
beknown to  them)  of  a  hash  that  is  full  of  abomina- 
tion and  uncleanness,  full  of  humiliation,  sorrow,  and 
degradation.  Oh ! "  says  I,  fallin'  back  on  the  side  of 
the  subject  nearest  to  my  heart,  "  when  I  think  of  the 
woes  of  my  sect  there  in  Utah,  I  feel  feelin's  that  never 
can  be  told  or  sung.  No,  there  never  could  be  a  tune 
made  mournful  and  solemn  enough  to  sing  'em  in." 

Says  he,  bold  as  brass,  and  not  thinkin'  how  he  was 
a  wobblin'  round  in  his  argument,  "  They  enjoy  it." 

Says  I,  firm  as  Bunker  Hill,  and  as  lofty,  "  They 
don't  enjoy  it." 


440  WHAT  THEY  ENJOY. 

Says  he,  "  They  do." 

Says  I,  "  Elder  Judas  Wart,  you  tell  me  that  agin, 
and  I'll  know  the  reason  why." 

"  Why,"  says  he,  "  they  have  petitioned  Congress  to 
not  meddle  with  the  laws." 

Says  I,  "Can  you.  tell  me,  Elder  Judas  Wart,  can 
you  tell  me  honestly  that  there  wasn't  man's  influence 
lookin'  right  out  of  that  petition  ?  " 

"  No,  mum,  there  wuzn't.  They  done  it  of  their 
own  wills  and  acords." 

Says  I,  firmly,  "  I  don't  believe  it.  And  if  I  did,  it 
would  only  show  to  me  the  blightin',  corrupting  influ- 
ence of  your  belief." 

"  Why,"  says  he,  "  some  of  our  wimmeii  are  the 
most  active  in  our  church — full  of  religious  zeal." 

Says  I,  coolly,  "All  kinds  of  zeal  hain't  religious 
zeal."  Says  I,  "  The  kind  that  makes  a  mother  throw 
her  child  into  the  Ganges,  and  burn  herself  with  the 
dead  body  of  her  husband — you  can  call  it  religious 
zeal,  if  you  want  to,  but  I  call  it  fanatical  frenzy." 

Says  he,  "  They  are  perfectly  happy  in  their  belief." 

Says  I,  "  You  needn't  never  say  that  agin  to  me, 
thinkin'  I  will  believe  it,  for  before  Mormonism  was 
ever  made,  human  nature  was  made,  wimmen's  hearts 
was  made.  And  when  you  show  me  a  man  who  would 
enjoy  havin'  his  right  hand  cut  off,  or  his  eyes  plucked 
out  of  his  head,  then  I  will  show  you  a  woman,  a 
womanly  woman,  who  enjoys  sharin'  the  love  of  the 
man  she  worships — enjoys  seem'  it  passin'  away  from 


RELIGIOUS  ZEAL. 


441 


her,  given  to  another.     Why,  it  is  aginst  nater,  as 
much  as  it    is  for  the  sun   to  shine  at  midnight. 

Blackness  and  de- 
spair and  gloom  is 
what  rains  when  the 
sun  of  love  is  gone 
down  —  it's  nater, 
and  can't  be  help- 
ed, no  more  than 
the  sun  can,  or  the 
moon,  or  anything. 
No  woman  ever  en- 
joyed this  wretched 
doctrine — that  is,  no 


THE  HINDOO  MOTHER. 


442  JOSIAH  FALLS  DOWN  8ULLER. 

good  woman,  no  pure,  tender-hearted,  affectionate 
woman." 

"  Why,"  says  he,  "  I  s'posed  you  thought  all  wiinmen 
was  perfect." 

"  No,  I  don't,  sir,  no  sir.  A  woman  can  lose  all 
that  is  sweet  and  lovely  in  her  nature — all  the  traits 
that  make  her  so  attractive,  her  tenderness,  her  affec- 
tion, her  constancy,  her  modesty,  her  purity.  She  can 
get  very  low  down  in  the  scale  of  being,  lower,  I  think, 
than  a  man  can  get.  You  know  the  further  up  any  one 
is,  the  worse  it  hurts  'em  to  fall. 

"Now  the  angels  that  fell  down  from  heaven,  I 
s'pose  it  changed  'em,  and  disfigured  'em,  and  spilte 
'em  as  bad  agin  as  it  would  to  fall  down  suller. 
Josiah  fell  a  week  ago  last  Wednesday  night,  with  a 
hammer  in  one  hand,  and  a  box  of  nails  in  the  other. 
He  was  fixin'  up  a  cupboard  for  me  in  the  sullerway. 
He  fell  flat  down  and  lay  his  hull  length  on  the  suller 
bottom.  Skairt  me  awfully.  Skairt  him,  too,  and 
sort  o'  madded  him,  as  it  always  will  a  man  when  they 
fall.  I  was  gettin'  the  supper  onto  the  table,  and  I 
started  on  the  run  for  the  suller  door,  and  says  I,  in 
agitated  axents,  and  weak  as  a  cat  with  my  emotions : 

"  Did  it  hurt  you,  Josiah  ? " 

Says  he,  sort  o'  surly,  "  It  didn't  do  me  any  good." 

But  he  got  up,  and  was  all  right  the  next  day. 
I  have  used  this  poetical  simely,  of  its  hurtin'  anybody 
worse  to  fall  down  from  such  a  lofty  height  than  to 
fall  down  the  sullerway,  to  show  my  meanin'  that  a 


A  SIMELY. 


443 


pure  woman's  nature  is  naturally  very  pure  and  lofty, 
and  if  she  loses  it  she  falls  very  low  indeed. 

"Lose  it  she  can — 
all  that  makes  her  sweet 
and  lovely  and  lovable; 
but  while  she  keeps  her 
woman's  heart  and  na- 
ture, her  life,  in  your 
religion,  must  be  a  con- 
stant martyrdom,  and 
must  be  in  its  nature  de- 
moralizin'  and  debasin', 
dealin'  the  morals  fear- 
ful and  totterin'  blows. 


A  FALLEN  ANGEL. 


"Why,  don't  you  s'pose  I  can  take  it  to  myself? 
Now,  Home  is  the  most  heavenly  word  we  know.     We 


444  IF  SHE  KNOWS  HERSELF. 

hain't  learnt  the  heavenly  alphabet  yet,  none  of  us, 
and  so  can't  spell  out  the  word  Heaven  as  it  ort  to  be 
spelt.  We  are  children  that  hain't  learnt  God's  lan- 
guage yet.  But  Home  in  its  true  meanin'  is  sunthin' 
as  near  heaven  as  we  can  translate  and  spell  out  below. 
Home,  when  it  is  built  as  any  home  must  be  in  order 
to  stand,  on  a  true  love,  and  in  the  fear  of  God,  such  a 
home  is  almost  a  heaven  below.  I  know  it,  for  a  cer- 
tain home  was  built  on  these  very  foundations  upwards 
of  20  years  ago,  and  not  a  j'int  has  moved,  not  a  sleeper 
decayed.  Such  a  home  means  delight,  rest,  comfort. 
I  know  it,  and  my  Josiah  knows  it. 

"  But  let  Josiah  Allen  bring  home  one  more  wife,  let 
alone  a  dozen  or  fifteen  of  'em — let  him  bring  home  one 
small  wife  besides  Samantha,  and  I  should  find  that 
home  meant  sunthin'  very  different  from  peace  and 
rest  and  happiness.  And  Josiah  Allen  would  find  out 
that  it  did,  too.  He  would,  if  I  know  my  own  heart, 
and  am  not  deceived  in  myself.  And  when  I  think  of 
it,  think  of  what  my  own  sect  are  a  sufferin'  right  here 
in  our  own  land,  it  makes  my  blood  bile  up  in  my 
vains,  and  the  tears  jest  start  to  every  eye  in  my  head, 
and  if  I  had  two  dozen  eyes  I  could  cry  and  weep  with 
every  one  of  'em,  a  thinkin'  how  I  should  feel  under 
them  circumstances — a  thinkin'  of  the  desecration  of 
all  that  is  holiest,  and  purest,  and  most  blessed. 
Thinkin'  of  the  agony  of  remembrance,  and  regret,  and 
despair  that  would  sweep  over  me — remembrance  of 
the  old,  happy  days  when  I  was  blest  with  the  love  that 


RUINED  MORALS.  445 


had  gone  from  me — regret  for  all  the  happy  days, 
happy  words  of  love  and  tenderness,  happy  hours  of 
confidence  and  affection — mine  once,  gone  forever. 
Despair,  utter,  black  despair  that  all  was  past. 

"And  besides  this  suffering  think  of  the  ravages  it 
would  make  in  my  morals,  as  well  as  his'en.  I  know 
jest  how  much  my  morals  can  stand,  I  know  to  a  inch 
jest  how  much  strain  I  can  put  onto  'em.  And  I  know, 
jest  as  well  as  I  know  my  name  was  once  Smith,  that 
another  wife  would  make  'em  totter.  And,  to  be  per- 
fectly plain  and  truthful,  I  know  that  wife  would  make 
'em  fall  perfectly  flat  down,  and  break  'em  all  into 
pieces,  and  ruin  'em.  I  shouldn't  have  a  single  moral 
left  sound  and  hull,  and  I  know  it.  I  should  be  ugly." 

Says  I,  with  a  added  eloquence  and  bitterness  of 
tone,  as  my  mind  roved  back  onto  a  certain  widder : 

"  To  have  another  woman  come  a  snoopin'  into  my 
house  and  my  pardner's  heart — why,  language  hain't 
made  mean  enough  to  tell  what  my  meanness  would 
be  under  the  circumstances.  And  her  morals,  too — 
why,  don't  you  s'pose  her  morals  would  be  flat  as  a 
pancake  ?  Yea,  verily.  And  where  would  my  Josi- 
ah's  morals  be  ?  He  wouldn't  have  none,  not  a  moral, 
nor  a  vestige  of  any.  And  there  would  be  three  likely 
persons  spilte,  entirely,  and  eternally  spilte.  And  do 
you  s'pose  we  three  persons  are  so  different  from  any 
other  three  persons  ?  No,  human  nature  (man  human 
nature,  and  woman  human  nature)  is  considerable  the 
same  all  over  the  world." 


446  THE  WHOLE  CIRCUS. 

And  agin  as  that  fearful  scene  presented  itself  to 
my  imagination,  of  another  woman  enterin'  into  my 
Josiah's  heart,  I  sithcd  powerful,  and  went  on  with 
renewed  eloquence.  I  was  fearfully  eloquent,  and 
smart  as  I  could  be  ;  deep. 

Says  I,  "  One  man's  heart  hain't  of  much  account, 
riewed  in  a  permiscus  way,  but  to  the  woman  that 
loves  him  it's  a  good  deal,  it  is  all.  Wimmen  are  fool- 
ish about  eome  things,  and  this  is  one  of  'em.  Her 
love  is  to  her  the  very  breath  she  breathes — it  is  the 
best  part  of  her.  Men  don't  feel  this  way  as  a  general 
thing  (my  Josiah  duz,  but  he  is  a  shinin'  exception). 
But  as  a  general  thing  love  is  to  them  a  sort  of  a  side- 
show, a  tolerable  good  entertainment,  but  it  hain't  the 
hull  circus. 

"No,  a  man's  heart  hain't  none  too  large  for  one 
woman  to  dwell  in,  especially  if  she  is  hefty,  not  at  all 
too  large,  quite  the  reverse.  And  I  can  tell  you,  Elder 
Judas  Wart,  and  tell  it  firm  and  solemn,  that  when  it 
comes  to  dividin'  up  that  heart  that  was  a  tight  fit  in 
the  first  place,  and  lettin'  one  woman  after  another 
come  a  troopin'  in,  a  pushin'  the  lawful  owner  out  of 
the  way,  jammin'  her  round,  bruisin'  of  her,  and  in  the 
end  crowdin'  her  completely  out  in  the  cold,  I  say,  may 
God  pity  such  a  woman,  for  human  pity  can't  be  made 
pitiful  enough  to  reach  her." 

Says  Elder  Judas  Wart,  "  Men  that  hain't  Mormons 
sometimes  has  more  than  one  woman  inside  of  their 
hearts." 


THEY  NEED  BRINE.  447 

"  I  know  it,"  says  I.  "  But  the  law  gets  right  onto 
such  a  man  and  stamps  onto  him.  And  public  senti- 
ment sets  down  on  him  hard.  And  I  can  tell  you  that 
when  the  hull  community  and  law  and  religion  and 
everything  are  all  a  settin'  on  a  man,  and  settin'  heavy, 
that  man  finds  it  is  a  pretty  tuckerin'  business;  he 
gets  sick  of  it,  and  is  glad  to  do  better  and  be  let  up. 
But  you  make  the  iniquity  lawful.  You  make  law  and 
religion  and  public  sentiment  all  get  under  such  a  man, 
and  boost  him  up — make  out  that  the  more  crimes  a 
man  commits^the  more  wives  he  has,  the  higher  place 
he  will  have  in  heaven.  Why,"  says  I,  "  when  I  think 
it  over,  it  hain't  no  wonder  to  me  that  the  Mormon 
leaders,  before  they  let  loose  this  shameful  doctrine 
and  putrifyin'  sin  of  polygamy,  they  settled  down  by 
a  salt  lake.  I  should  have  thought  they  would  have 
needed  salt  But  salt  never  was  made  salt  enough 
to  save  'em,  and  they'll  find  out  so." 

He  quailed  a  very  little,  or,  that  is,  it  looked  like 
quail,  though  it  might  have  been  meachin'ness  strong 
and  severe.  Powerful  meach  looks  some  like  quail, 
at  a  first  look.  But  he  recovered  himself  in  half  a 
moment,  and  went  on,  in  the  haughtiest,  impudentest 
tone  he  had  used  as  yet : 

"Wall,  whether  salt  has  helped  us,  or  whatever  did, 
we  have  flourished — nobody  can  deny  that.  We  have 
made  the  desert  blossom  like  a  rose.  We  are  indus- 
trious, stiddy,  prudent,  equinomical,  hard-working. 


448  A  FLOURISHIN'  SET. 

You  can't  deny  the  good  we  have  done  in  that  way. 
We  are  full  of  good  qualities,  brim  full  of  'em." 

Says  I,  coldly,  almost  frigidly,  "  No  amount  of  white- 
wash can  cover  up  a  whited  sepulker  so  that  my  specks 
can't  see  through  it,  and  see  the  sepulker.  Good  store 
clothes  can't  cover  up  a  bad  soul  worth  a  cent.  A  blue 
satin  vest,  or  even  a  pink  velvet  one,  buttoned  up  over 
a  bad  heart,  can't  make  that  heart  none  the  purer. 
The  vest  might  look  well,  and  probable  would.  But 
when  you  know  the  bad  heart  beats  under  it,  vile  and 
wicked  beats,  why,  that  vest  don't  seem  no  better  to 
you,  nor  seem  to  set  the  man  off  no  more,  than  if  it 
was  calico,  with  leather  buttons.  Material  good  can 
never  make  up  for  moral  degradation. 

"And  your  good  qualities  only  make  your  sinful 
practices  more  dangerous,  more  successful  in  luring 
souls  to  destruction.  It  is  like  wreathin'  a  sword  with 
flowers,  for  folks  to  grip  holt  of  and  get  their  hands 
cut  off  (morally).  It  is  like  coverin'  a  bottomless 
gulf  with  blossoming  boughs,  for  folks  to  walk  off  on, 
and  break  their  necks  (as  it  were)." 

"  Wall,"  says  he  proudly,  "  we  have  flourished,  and 
are  flourishin'  and  are  goin'  to  still  more.  We  are 
goin'  to  extend  our  doctrine  of  polygamy  further  and 
further.  We  are  goin'  to  carry  it  into  Arizona  and  all 
the  other  new  territories — " 

I  riz  right  up,  I  was  so  agitated,  and  says  I :  "  You 
shan't  carry  it,  not  one  «tep." 

Says  he,  firmly :  "  We  will ! " 


NO  FURTHER.  449 


Says  I :  "  I  tell  you  agin  that  you  shan't ;  and  if  you 
do  I'll  know  the  reason  why.  I -tell  you  that  you  shall 
drop  it  right  there,  by  that  salt  lake,  and  let  it  lay 
there.  It  needs  brine  if  anything  ever  did.  You 
shan't  make  no  move  to  carry  it  a  step  further.  You 
shall  not  carry  this  godless  crime,  a  disgrace  to  reli- 
gion and  civilization,  into  new  territories.  The  green 
turf  of  them  lands  is  too  fresh  and  bright  to  be  blood- 
stained by  the  feet  of  weepin'  wimmen,  bearin'  this 
heaviest  of  crosses  that  was  ever  tackled  by  'em.  You 
shall  not  darken  the  sunny  skies  and  pollute  the  sweet 
air  of  new  lands  with  this  moral  pestilence." 

Says  he:  "We  will!" 

Says  I,  firmly  and  sternly :  "  You  won't ;  and  when 
I  say  you  won't,  I  mean  it." 

"Wall,"  says  he,  with  a  proud  mean,  "how  are  you 
goin'  to  help  yourself  ? " 

Says  I,  in  loud,  excited  axents:  "  If  I  can't  stop  you 
myself,  I  know  who  can,  and  I  will  go  to  Uncle  Sam 
myself.  I'll  have  a  plain  talk  with  that  good  old  man. 
I'll  jest  put  it  into  his  head  what  you  are  a  tryin'  to 
do,  and  I'll  hunch  him  up,  and  make  him  stop  you." 

Says  he:  "Don't  you  s'pose  sin  and  sorrow  will 
ever  be  carried  into  the  territories  only  as  they  are 
carried  in  by  Mormons?" 

"Yes,  I   do,"   says   I.  .  "I  s'pose  that  whenever 

humanity  is  sot  down  under  the  light  of  the  Eternal, 

it  will  forevermore,  as  it  has  forever  in  the  past,  be 

followed  by  two  shadows,  the  joyful  and  the  sorrowful. 

17 


450 


LIGHT  AND  DARKNESS. 


Human  nature  can't  help  itself ;  the  Eternal  Soul  above 
will  shine  on,  and  the  human  nature  below  will  throw 
its  shadows — the  dark  one  and  the  light  one,  first  one 

and  then  the  other, 
unbeknown  to  us, 
followin'  us  all  the 
time,  and  will  follow 
us  till  the  darkness 
of  the  human  is  all 
lost  in  the  light  of 
the  divine.  There 
hain't  no  territories 
been  discovered  dis- 
tant enough  for  the 
human  soul  to  es- 
cape from  itself — 
from  the  shadow  of 
sorrow.  I  hain't 
said  there  wuz. 
Neither  have  I  said 
it  could  escape  from 
sin.  I  s'pose  the 
old  man  in  human 
nature  won't  never 
be  wholly  drove  out 
of  it  this  side  of 
Eternity;  and  I 
s'pose  wherever  that 

THE   OLD   MAX.  ° 


YK 


A  LITTLE  OUT  OP  HEALTH.  451 

be  caperin'  and  cuttin'  up  and  actin'.  But,  as  I  have 
said  more'n  forty  times,  you  ort  to  whip  that  old  man, 
make  him  behave  himself  as  well  as  you  possibly  can, 
be  awful  severe  with  him,  and  keep  him  under.  But 
you  don't  try  to.  You  jest  pet  that  old  man,  and 
humor  him,  and  encourage  him  in  his  caperin's.  You 
try  to  make  sin  and  cuttin'  up  and  actin'  respectable ; 
protect  it  by  the  law. 

"  Why,  sin  is  what  all  good  men  and  wimmen  must 
fight  aginst ;  educate  public  sentiment  aginst  it ;  make 
it  obnoxious ;  or  what  will  become  of  everybody  and 
the  world  if  they  don't?  Why,  they  will  be  ondone, 
they  and  the  hull  world,  if  they  don't.  I  will,"  says  I 
firmly,  "  I  will  see  Uncle  Sam  about  it  at  once." 

"  Oh,"  says  he,  in  a  impudent,  pert  tone,  "  Uncle 
Sam  won't  do  nothin'  to  hinder  us.  He  has  always 
protected  us.  He  has  done  well  by  us.  He  has  let  us 
do  about  as  we  was  a  mind  to." 

"I  know  it,"  says  I,  "but  I'll  tell  you,"  says  1,  on- 
tyin'  my  apron-strings  in  a  absent-minded  sort  of  a 
mechanicle  way,  and  then  tyin'  'em  up  agin  in  the 
same  way  (or  about  the  same),  "I'll  tell  you  what," 
says  I,  for  I  was  fairly  determined  to  find  some  excuse 
for  Samuel,  if  I  possibly  could,  "  the  fact  is,  that  old 
man  hain't  been  well  for  quite  a  number  of  years.  He 
has  seemed  to  be  sort  o'  runnin'  down ;  his  constitu- 
tion hain't  seemed  right  to  me.  And  he  has  had  mis- 
erable doctors ;  or  that  is,  he  has  got  help  in  some 
directions,  good  help,  and  in  others  he  has  had  the 


452  WAR  IN  THE  CAMP. 

poorest  kind  of  physic.  But,"  says  I,  firmly,  "that 
old  man  means  well;  there  hain't  a  well-meanin'er, 
conscientiouser  old  creeter  on  the  face  of  the  earth 
than  that  old  man  is." 

"Yes,"  says  he,  "he  has  done  well  by  us.  We 
hain't  no  fault  to  find  with  him." 

Oh !  how  that  madded  me.  But  I  was  determined 
to  find  all  the  excuses  for  Samuel  that  I  could  (though 
I  was  at  my  wit's  end,  or  pretty  nigh  there,  to  find 
'em,  and  I  can't  deny  it).  Says  I, 

"  That  old  man  has  been  more  than  half  crazy  for  a 
number  of  years  back.  What  with  fightin'  and  blood- 
shed right  in  his  own  family,  amongst  his  own  chil- 
dern — and  the  injins  screechin'  and  warhoopin'  round 
his  frontiers,  and  the  Chinamen  a  cuttin'  up  behind 
his  back,  and  his  neighbors  a  fightin'  amongst  them- 
selves, and  jabbin'  at  him  every  chance  they  got ;  and 
congressmen  and  everybody  a  stealin'  everything  they 
could,  right  under  his  nose,  and  cuttin'  up  and  actin'. 
It  is  a  wonder  to  me  that  the  old  man  hain't  gin  up 
long  ago,  and  died  off.  I  guess  lots  of  folks  thought, 
a  number  of  years  ago,  that  he  wouldn't  live  a  year. 
And  it  wasn't  nothin'  but  his  goodness  and  solid 
principles  that  kep'  him  up,  and  everybody  knows  it. 
He's  had  enough  to  bear  to  kill  a  ox." 

"  We  ort  to  speak  well  of  him,"  says  he  agin.  "  He 
has  done  first-rate  by  us.  He  has  seemed  to  like  us." 

"  Shet  up  !  "  says  I.  "I  won't  hear  another  word 
from  you  aginst  that  old  man.  Your  doin's  has  wor- 


OUR  DISTRACTED  UNCLE. 


453 


ried  Samuel  almost  to 
death  —  I  know  it  has.  I 
wouldn't  be  afraid  to  bet 
(if  I  believed  in  bettin') 
that  it  has  wore  on  him 
more  than  all  the  work 
he  has  done  for  years. 

"  He  wants  to  do  right, 
that  old  Uncle  does. 
He  would  be  jest  as  glad 
to  get  rid  of  all  of  you, — 

N. 

r=r 

TREASURY 


454  WHAT  SAMUEL  NEEDS. 

Mormons,  Oneida  Communities,  Free  Lovers,  and  the 
hull  caboodle  of  you, — as  our  old  mare  would  be  glad  to 
get  rid  of  flies  in  fly-time.  But  the  thing  of  it  is,  with 
Samuel  and  the  mare,  how  to  go  to  work  to  do  it.  He 
can't  see  to  everything  without  help.  I  know  what  he 
needs.  He  needs  a  good,  strong  friend  to  help  him. 
He  wants  to  have  somebody  tell  him  the  plain  truth, 
to  get  his  dander  completely  up  ;  and  then  he  wants  to 
have  that  same  female  stand  right  by  him,  with  a  cast- 
iron  determination,  and  hand  him  bullets  and  car- 
tridges, while  he  aims  his  old  revolutionary  musket, 
and  shoots  down  iniquities  on  every  side  of  him. 

"  Why,  where  would  Josiah  Allen  be,  if  it  wuzu't 
for  me  ?  He  would  come  to  nothin',  morals  and  all,  it' 
it  wuzn't  for  me  to  hunch  him  up.  And  Samuel  has 
as  much  agin  to  worry  him  as  Josiah  has. 

"  Why,  there  is  no  tellin'  how  many  things  that  old 
man  has  to  plague  him  and  torment  the  very  life  out 
of  him.  Little  things,  too,  some  of  'em,  but  how 
uncommon  little  things  will  worry  anybody,  'specially 
in  the  night.  Curious  things,  too,  some  of  'em,  that 
has  worried  me  most  to  death  way  off  here  in  Jones- 
ville,  and  what  feelin's  I  should  have  felt  to  have  had 
it  a  goin'  on  right  under  my  nose,  as  Samuel  did. 

"  Now,  when  they  made  that  new  silver  dollar,  right 
there  in  his  house  I  s'pose  they  done  it,  or  in  his  wood- 
shed or  barn — anyway,  it  was  right  where  he  could  see 
it  a  goin'  on,  and  worry  over  it — you  know  they  put  onto 
it,  'In  God  we  trust.'  And  it  has  fairly  hanted  me 


THE   CALL   TO   DUTY. 


WHAT  DOES  IT  MEAN?  457 

to  find  out  what  the  government  really  meant  by  it — 
whether  they  meant  that  God  wouldn't  let  'em  get 
found  out  in  their  cheatin'  seven  cents  on  every  dollar, 
or  trusted  He  would  let  'em  cheat  fourteen  cents  on  the 
next  ones  they  made. 

"  Why,  it  has  worried  me  awfully,  and  how  Samuel 
must  have  felt  about  it.  And  that  is  only  one  little 
thing. 

"  There  is  the  trade  dollars  we  made  on  purpose  to 


HELPS  FOB,  THE  HEATHEN. 


cheat  Chinfr  with,  and  sent  over  in  the  same  ship  we 
sent  missionaries  to  convert  'em.  I  persume  to  say 
that  old  man  has  laid  awake  nights  a  worryin'  over 
what  the  heathens  would  think  about  it  —  about  our 
sendin'  religion  and  robbery  over  to  'em  in  the  same 
ship  —  about  our  sendin'  religious  tracts,  exhortin'  'em 
to  be  honest,  or  they  would  certainly  go  to  that  bad  place 
which  I  do  not,  as  a  Methodist,  wish  to  speak  of,  and 
send  these  dollars  to  cheat  'em  with  in  the  same  box  — 


458  NEEDS  HUNCHING  UP. 

sendin'  eloquent  and  heartrendin'  tracts  provin'  out  to 
'em  that  no  drunkard  can  possibly  go  to  Heaven, 
packed  side  by  side  with  barrels  of  whiskey  to  teach 
'em  how  to  get  drunk,  so  they  will  be  sure  not  to  go 
there.  I  know  it  has  wore  on  him,  so  afraid  that  the 
heathens  would  be  perfectly  disgusted  with  a  religion 
taught  by  professed  followers  of  Him  who  come  down 
to  earth  bearing  peace,  good-will  to  men,  and  then, 
after  1800  years  of  professed  loyalty  to  Him,  and  His 
pure  and  exalted  teachings,  bore  to  their  shores  such 
fruit  as  cheating,  falsehood,  and  drunkenness. 

"  It  has  hanted  Samuel,  I  know  it  has.  Hantin'  me 
as  it  has,  it  must  have  hanted  him  fur  worse.  He  has 
had  severe  trials,  that  old  gentleman  has,  and  he  has 
needed  somebody  to  hunch  him  up,  and  lock  arms  with 
him,  and  draw  him  along  on  the  path  of  Right.  And 
I  tell  you  when  I  talk  with  him  I  shan't  spare  no  pains 
with  him.  I  shall  use  my  eloquent  tone  freely.  I 
shan't  be  savin'  of  gestures  or  wind.  I  shall  use  sharp 
reason,  and,  if  necessary,  irony  and  sarcasm.  And  I 
shall  ask  him  (usin'  a  ironicle  tone,  if  ne^ssary)  how 
he  thinks  it  looks  in  the  eyes  of  the  other  nations  to 
see  him,  who  ort  to  be  a  model  for  'em  all  to  foller, 
allow  such  iniquity  as  Mormonism  to  nourish  in  his 
borders.  To  let  a  regular  organized  band  of  banditty 
murder  and  plunder  and  commit  all  sorts  of  abomina- 
tions right  under  his  honest  old  nose.  And  how  it 
must  look  to  them  foreign  nations  to  see  such  a  good, 
moral  old  gentleman  as  he  is  lift  his  venerable  old  eye- 


SELLING  LICENSES.  459 

winker  and  wink  at  such  crime  and  sin.  How  insig- 
nificant and  humiliatin'  it  must  look  to  'em  to  see  him 
allow  a  man  in  Congress  to  make  laws  that  will 
imprison  a  man  for  havin'  two  wives  when  the  same 
man  has  got  four  of  'em,  and  is  lookin'  round  hungry 
for  more. 

"  And  I  shall  hunch  him  up  sharp  about  sellin' 
licenses  to  do  wrong  for  money — licenses  to  make 
drunkards,  and  unfit  men  for  earth  or  heaven — licenses 
to  commit  other  crimes  that  are  worse — sellin'  indul- 
gences to  sin  as  truly  as  ever  Mr.  Pope  did. 

"I  don't  s'pose,  in  fact,  I  know,  that  Sam  hain't 
never  thought  it  over,  and  took  a  solemn,  realizin' 
sense  of  how  bad  he  was  a  cuttin'  up  (entirely  unbe- 
known to  him).  And,  if  necessary,  to  convince  him 
and  make  him  see  his  situation,  I  shall  poke  fun  at 
him  (in  a  jokin'  way,  so's  not  to  get  him  mad).  And 
I  shall  ask  him  if  he  thinks  it  is  any  nobler  for  him  to 
set  up  in  his  high  chair  at  Washington  and  sell  indul- 
gences to  sin,  than  it  was  in  Mr.  Pope  to  set  up  in  his 
high  chair  in  Vatican  village  and  sell  'em. 

"  And  I  shall  skare  him  mebby,  that  is,  if  I  have  to, 
and  ask  him  in  a  impressive,  skareful  tone  that  if  he 
can't  be  broke  in  any  other  way,  if  he  don't  think  he 
ort  to  be  brought  down  to  a  diet  of  Worms. 

"  It  will  go  aginst  my  feelin's  to  skare  the  excellent 

old  gentleman.     But  I  shall  feel  it  to  be  my  duty  to 

not  spare  no  pains.     But  at  the  same  time  I  shall  be 

very  clever  to  him.     I  shall  resk  it.     I  don't  believe 

17* 


460  THE  MIGHTIEST  POWER. 

he  will  get  mad  at  me.  He  knows  my  feelin's  for  him 
too  well.  He  knows  there  hain't  a  old  man  on  the  face 
of  the  earth  I  love  so  devotedly,  now  father  Smith  is 
dead,  and  father  Allen,  and  all  the  other  old  male 
relatives  on  my  side,  and  on  his'en.  I'll  bet  a  cent  I 
can  convince  him  where  he  is  in  the  wrong  on't." 

Here  I  paused  for  a  moment  for  wind,  for  truly  I 
was  almost  completely  exhausted.  But  I  was  so  full 
and  runnin'  over  with  emotions  that  I  couldn't  stop, 
wind  or  no  wind.  And  I  went  on : 

"  He  hain't  realized,  and  he  won't,  till  I  go  right 
there  and  hunch  him  up  about  it,  how  it  looks  for  him 
to  talk  eloquent  about  the  sanctity  of  home.  How  the 
household,  the  Christian  home,  is  the  safeguard,  the 
anchor  of  church  and  state,  and  then  make  his  words 
seem  emptier  and  hollower  than  a  drum,  or  a  hogsit, 
by  allowin'  this  sin  of  Mormonism  to  undermind  and 
beat  down  the  walls  of  home." 

And  then  (this  theme  always  did  make  me  talk 
beautiful),  as  I  thought  of  home  and  Josiah,  and  the 
fearful  dangers  that  had  threatened  'em  both,  why,  as 
I  thought  of  this,  I  begun  to  feel  eloquenter  far  than  I 
had  felt  durin'  the  hull  interview,  and  I  don't  know  as 
the  feelin's  I  felt  then  had  been  gone  ahead  of  by  me 
in  five  years.  Why,  I  branched  out  perfectly  beautiful, 
and  very  deep,  and  says  I : 

"  Home  !  The  Christian  home  !  The  mightiest 
power  on  earth  for  good.  Each  home  seperate  and 
perfect  in  itself,  like  the  little  crystal  drops  of  water, 


THE  STRONGEST  OF  ROPES.        461 

each  one  on  'em  round  and  complete  and  all  floatin'  on 
together,  unbeknown  to  them,  makin'  a  mighty  ocian 
floatin'  right  into  that  serene  bay  into  which  all  our 
hopes  and  life  dreams  empty.  That  soundless  sea  that 
floats  human  souls  right  up  to  the  eternal  city. 

u  The  love  of  parents,  wives,  and  childern,  like 
golden  rings,  bindin'  the  hearts  to  the  happy  hearth- 
stone, and  then  widenin'  out  in  other  golden  rings, 
bindin'  them  hearth-stones  to  loyalty  and  patriotism, 
love  of  country,  love  of  law  and  order,  and  love  of 
Heaven,  why,  them  gold  rings  within  rings,  they  all 
make  a  chain  that  can't  be  broke  down ;  they  twist  all 
together  into  a  rope  that  binds  this  crazy  old  world  to 
the  throne  of  God. 

"And,"  says  I,  lookin'  at  Elder  Judas  Wart,  with  a 
arrow  in  each  eye  (as  it  were):  "This  most  wholesome 
restraint,  this  strongest  of  ropes  that  is  stretched  firm 
and  solid  between  safety  and  old  Error,  you  are  tryin' 
to  break  down.  But  you'll  find  you  can't  do  it.  No 
sir!  You  may  all  get  onto  it, — the  whole  caboodle  of 
you,  Mormons,  Oneida  Communities,  Free  Lovers,  the 
hull  set  on  you, — and  you'll  find  it  is  a  rope  you  can't 
break!  You'll  find  that  the  most  you  can  do  is  to 
teter  and  swing  on  it,  and  stretch  it  out  a  little  ways, 
mebby.  You  can't  break  it!  No  sir!  Uncle  Samuel 
(after  I  have  hunched  him  up)  will  hold  one  end  of  it 
firm  and  strong,  and  Principle  and  Public  Sentiment 
the  other  end  of  it ;  and  if  necessary,  if  danger  is  at 
hand,  she  that  was  Samantha  Smith  will  lay  holt  of  it, 


462  TOO  LATE. 


too ;  and  I'd  love  to  see  any  shacks,  or  set  of  shacks, 
a  gettin'  it  out  of  our  hands  then." 

Oh,  how  eloquent  I  had  been.  But  he  wuzn't  con- 
vinced. I  don't  s'pose  anybody  would  hardly  believe 
that  a  man  could  listen  to  such  talk,  and  not  be  prose- 
lyted and  converted.  But  he  wuzn't.  After  all  my 
outlay  and  expenditure  of  eloquence  and  wind  and 
everything,  he  wuzn't  convinced  a  mite.  And  after  he 
had  got  his  hat  all  on  to  go,  he  jest  stood  there  in  front 
of  me,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and  says  he,  bold 
as  brass,  and  as  impudent  as  brass  ever  was : 

"I  am  a  goin',  mum,  and  I  don't  never  expect  to  see 
you  agin.  I  never  shall  see  you  in  the  kingdom." 

"I  am  afraid  you  won't,"  says  I,  givin'  him  a  awful 
keen  look,  but  pityin'.  "  I  am  afraid  if  you  don't  turn 
right  square  round,  and  stop  actin',  you  won't  be 
there." 

"I  shall  be  there,"  says  he,  "but  you  won't." 
Says  I,  "  How  do  you  know  I  won't  ? " 
Says  he,  "Because  I  do  know  it." 
Says  I,  with  dignity,  "You  don't  know  it." 
"  Why,"  says  he,  comin'  out  plain  with  his  biggest 
and  heftiest  argument,  the  main  pillow  in  the  Mormon 
church,  "  a  woman  can't  be  saved  unless  some  man 
saves  'em,  some  Mormon.     That  is  one  reason,"  says 
he,  "why  I  would  have  bore  my  cross,  and  married 
you;    obtained   an  entrance  for  you  in  the  heavenly 
kingdom.     But  now  it  is  too  late.     I  won't  save  you." 
"  You  won't  save  me  ? "  says  I,  lookin'  keen  at  him, 


.TOSIAH   ENDS   THE   ARGUMENT 


VENGEANCE.  465 


as  he  stood  there  before  me,  with  his  red  bloated  face, 
a  face  that  had  that  low,  disipated,  animal  expression 
lookin'  out  so  plain  under  the  sanctimonious,  hypocrit- 
ical look  he  had  tried  to  cover  it  with.  "  You  won't 
save  me !  Won't  take  me  into  the  heavenly  kingdom ! 
Wall,  I  rather  think  you  won't." 

I  was  so  engaged  and  bound  up  in  my  indignant 
emotions  and  principles  and  everything  that  1  didn't 
see  what  was  goin'  on  behind  me.  But  there  was  a 
fearful  scene  ensuin'  and  goin'  on  there.  A  awful 
scene  of  vengeance  and  just  retribution.  For  my 
faithful  pardner,  maddened  by  the  terrible  insult  to 
his  Samantha,  jest  lifted  himself  up  on  one  elbo,  his  ' 
righteous  anger  liftin'  him  up  for  the  moment  above 
stitches  and  all  other  earthly  infirmities,  and  he  threw 
that  broom-handle  at  Elder  Judas  Wart  with  terrific 
force,  and  aimed  it  so  perfect  that  it  hit  him  right  on 
the  nap  of  the  neck.  It  was  a  fearful  blow.  I  s'pose 
it  come  jest  as  near  breakin'  his  neck  as  anything  ever 
did  and  miss. 

And  it  skairt  him  fearfully,  too ;  for  Josiah  had  been 
so  still  for  a  spell  that  he  thought  he  was  asleep.  And 
it  had  come  onto  him  as  swift  and  severe  as  a  judg- 
ment right  out  of  the  heavens.  (Not  that  I  would 
wish  to  be  understood  that  broom-handles  are  judg- 
ments, and  should  be  handled  as  such ;  not  as  a  general 
thing.  I  am  speakin'  in  a  poetical  way,  and  would 
wish  to  be  took  poetically.) 

But  oh  !  how  fearful  Elder  Judas  Wart  looked.     It 


466  WILD  TALK. 


squshed  him  right  down  for  a  minute  where  he  ort  to 
be  squshed — right  onto  his  knees.  He  couldn't  get 
up  for  a  number  of  minutes,  bein'  stunted  and  wild 
with  the  blow  and  the  fearful  borrow  of  his  skare. 
And  oh !  how  Josiah  Allen  did  converse  with  him,  as 
he  knelt  there  helpless  before  him ;  hollered  !  it  wasn't 
conversation,  it  was  hollerin';  loud,  wild  holler!  almost 
a  beller ! 

He  ordered  him  out  of  the  house,  and  threatened 
him  with  instant  and  immediate  execution  on  the  gal- 
luses. Though  he  knew  we  hadn't  no  gallus  built, 
and  no  timber  suitable  to  build  one ;  and  he  disabled 
with  a  stitch,  and  nobody  but  me  to  do  anything.  But 
he  vowed,  in  that  loud,  skareful  axent,  that  he  would 
hang  him  in  five  minutes'  time ;  and  chop  his  head  off 
with  a  broad-axe  ;  and  gulotine  him  ;  and  saw  his  neck 
off  with  our  old  cross-cut  saw  ;  and  shoot  him  down 
like  a  dog ;  and  burn  him  to  the  stake ;  and  scalp  him. 

Why,  Josiah  ort  to  have  known  that  one  of  these 
punishments  was  enough  for  any  man  to  bear,  and 
more  than  any  man  could  stand  up  under.  And  he 
knew  we  hadn't  the  conveniences  by  us  for  half  of 
these  punishments.  But  he  didn't  think  of  that.  He 
didn't  think  of  nothin',  nor  nobody,  only  jest  anger 
and  vengeance.  He  was  more  delerious  and  wild  in 
his  conversation  and  mean  than  I  had  ever  known  him 
to  be  during  our  entire  aquaintenship.  It  was  a  fear- 
ful scene.  It  was  harrowin'  to  me  to  see  it  go  on. 
And  Elder  Judas  Wart,  as  quick  as  he  could  get  up, 


NOT  TO  BLAME. 


467 


— started  off  on  a  quick  run,  almost  a  canter.  I  s'pose, 
I  have  heerd  sense,  and  then  I  could  see  from  his  looks 
and  actions,  that  a  skairter  man  never  lived.  And 
well  he  might  be.  I  don't  blame  him  for  it  a  mite. 


DEPARTURE   OP   THE   ELDER. 


I  blame  him  for  lots  of  things,  but  not  for  that ;  for 
the  words  and  mean  of  Josiah  was  enough  to  apaul  a 
iron  man,  or  a  mule. 

But  as  I  told  Josiah  afterwards,  after  the  crazy 
delerium  begun  to  disperse  off  of  his  mean,  says  I, 


468  A  SHAMEFUL  FACT. 

"  Why  is  it  any  more  of  a  insult  to  me  than  it  is  to 
them  other  poor  wimmen  who  have  to  endure  it?" 
Says  I,  "  You  feel  awfully  to  have  that  doctrine  jest 
throwed  at  your  pardner,  as  you  may  say.  And  look 
at  the  thousands  of  wimmen  that  have  to  submit  to 
the  humiliation  and  degredation  of  this  belief,  live  in 
it,  and  die  in  it." 

"Wall,"  says  he,  chucklin',  "  I  jest  choked  old  Wart 
off  of  it  pretty  sudden.  I  brought  him  down  onto  his 
knees  pretty  suple.  He  won't  talk  about  savin'  wim- 
men's  souls  agin  right  away.  He  won't  till  his  neck 
gets  well,  anyway."  And  he  chuckled  agin. 

I  don't  believe  in  fightin',  and  am  the  last  woman 
to  encourage  it;  but  I  could  not  help  sayin',  in  fervid 
axents : 

"  Oh  !  if  Uncle  Samuel,  that  dear,  blunderin',  noble 
old  man,  would  only  hit  old  Polygamy  jest  another 
such  a  blow,  jest  as  sudden  and  unexpected,  and  bring 
him  down  on  his  polluted  old  knees  in  front  of  the 
nation.  Oh  !  what  a  day  that  would  be  for  America 
and  Samantha.  What  feelin's  we  should  feel,  both  on 
us." 

"  Yes,"  says  Josiah,  "  I  wish  it  could  be  did."  In 
the  case  of  Josiah  Allen  my  powerful  talk  (aided  by 
previous  and  more  late  occurrences)  had  fell  on  good 
ground,  I  knew.  The  seed  was  springin'  up  strong. 
I  knew  it  was  by  the  way  he  threw  that  broom-handle, 
and  I  knew  also  by  his  looks  and  axents. 

He  was  perfectly  and  entirely  convinced  of  the 


LOOKIN'  GOOD  AND  NOBLE.  469 

awfulness  and  vile  horrors  of  Mormonism.  I  knew 
he  was.  He  looked  so  good  and  sort  o'  noble  at  me. 
And  his  tone  was  so  sweet  and  kind  of  affectin',  some- 
how, as  he  added,  in  gentle  and  plaintive  axents : 

"  I  believe,  Samantha,  I  could  relish  a  little  briled 
steak  and  some  mashed-up  potatoes." 

Says  I,  "  So  could  I,  and  I  will  get  dinner  to  once." 
And  I  did. 


A  CRISIS  WITH  KELLUP. 

HE  very  next  day  after  I  gin  the  Elder  such  a 
--  talkin  to,  Cassandra  and  Nathan  Spoon er  come 
to  our  house  a  visitin,  or  that  is,  Nathan  brought  Cas- 
sandra up  as  far  as  there  for  a  drive,  in  the  mornin', 
and  I  made  'em  come  in  and  stay  to  dinner,  Cassan- 
dra not  bein'  very  strong.  They  have  got  a  young 
babe,  a  boy,  five  weeks  old  that  very  day.  Wall,  while 
they  was  there,  while  I  was  a  gettin'  dinner,  I  had  a 
letter  from  Kitty.  Kitty  had  gone  home  two  weeks 
before,  unexpected.  A  letter  bein'  had  by  her  from 
her  mother,  to  that  effect. 

I  never  shall  forget  the  day  Kitty  went.  Never. 
Josiah  had  hitched  up  to  take  her  to  say  good  bye  to 
the  children,  and  they  hadn't  been  ^one  more'n 
several  moments,  when  Kellup  Cobb  come.  He  had 
heerd  the  news  of  her  goin'  home,  and  he  looked 
anxious  and  careworn.  And  his  hair  and  whiskers 
and  eyebrows  bein'  a  sort  of  a  dark  mournful  color 
that  day,  made  him  look  worse.  He  had  been  foolin' 
with  logwood  and  alum,  and  a  lot  of  such  stuff. 

(470) 


WHAT  AILED  KELLUP.  471 

He  said,  "  he  was  fairly  beat  out  a  lay  in'  awake  the 
night  before." 

"  What  ails  you ? "  says  I.     "  What  is  the  matter? " 

"  Wimmen  is  what  ails  me !  "  says  he  with  a  bitter 
look.  "  Wimmen  is  what  is  the  matter !  Why,"  says 
he,  "wimmen  make  such  fools  of  themselves  about 
me,  that  it  is  a  wonder  that  I  get  any  sleep  at  all ;  I 
shouldn't,"  says  he  firmly,  "  I  know  I  shouldn't,  if  I 
didn't  get  so  sleepy  and  sort  o'  drowse  off." 

"  Well,"  says  I  reasonably,  "  I  don't  s'pose  we 
should  any  of  us  get  much  sleep,  if  it  wasn't  for  that." 

Says  he,  speakin'»out  firm  and  decided,  "  I  want  to 
do  right.  I  want  to  do  the  fair  thing  by  wimmen. 
But  there  it  is.  How  can  I  ?  Now  here  is  Kitty 
Smith  goin  off  droopin'  and  low-sperited,  I  s'pose,  jest 
on  my  account.  And  situated  as  I  be,  how  be  I  goin' 
to  help  myself,  or  chirk  her  up  before  she  goes  ? 

"  I  think  my  eyes  of  that  girl.  And  I  jest  about 
made  up  my  mind,  last  night,  in  the  dead  of  night 
(for  I  don't  believe  I  slept  a  wink  before  ten  o'clock), 
I  jest  about  made  up  my  mind  that  marry  her  I  would, 
and  let  the  rest  of  the  wimmen  live  or  die,  jist  as  they 
was  a  mind  to. 

"  Why,  I  think  so  much  of  that  girl,  that  it  jest 
about  kills  me  to  think  of  her  goin  off  home,  as  them 
without  hope.  But  what  can  I  do  ?  I  dassent  say  right 
out  that  I  will  marry  her,  till  I  look  round  and  see 
what  would  foller.  1  want  to  see  the  doctor !  I  want 
to  see  what  he  thinks,  if  he  thinks  the  effects  of  such 


472  DOIN'  THE  FAIR  THING. 

a  terrible  blow  onto  the  fair  sect  would  be  worse  at 
this  time  of  the  year.  It  is  a  sickly  time.  Mebby 
they  would  stand  it  better  some  other  time  of  the  year. 

"  But,"  says  he,  "  this  I  think  I  may  safely  promise 
you;  this,  I  think,  will  chirk  her  up  a  good  deal:  I 
will  write  to  her.  I  will  kinder  watch  things,  and 
enquire  'round,  and  see  what  I  can  do — see  how  they 
would  seem  likely  to  stand  it,  and  if  I  see  it  haint 
likely  to  kill  ten  or  fifteen,  I  will  try  to  get  round  and 
marry  her.  You  tell  her  so  from  me.  And  tell  her  I 
will  write  to  her,  anyway.  My  very  heart-strings 
seemed  wrapped  round  that  girl," "says  he,  sithin'  hard, 
"  and  how  I  am  a  goin'  to  stand  it  is  more  than  I  can 
tell,  to  think  of  her  bein'  way  off  there  alone,  a  suf- 
ferin'  and  droopin'  round,  on  my  account. 

"  But  this  letter  will  probable  be  the  greatest  comfort 
she  can  have  next  to  havin'  me  myself.  You  will  be 
apt  to  write  to  her  ?  "  says  he  anxiously. 

"  Yes,"  says  I,  «  most  probable  I  shall." 

"  Wall,"  says  he,  "  I  will  put  in  a  letter  with  you 
when  you  write.  It  haint  the  postage  that  is  the  stick 
with  me,  it  haint  the  3  cents  I  mind.  But  if  I  can't, 
after  all  my  efforts,  see  my  way  clear  to  marry  her,  it 
would  seem  more  cruel  and  cold-blooded  in  me,  to  have 
gin  her  the  encouragement  of  sendin  her  a  letter  by 
myself,  all  stamped  and  paid  for  by  me,  than  it  would 
to  send  it  in  with  somebody  else."  Says  he,  "  Don't 
you  think  so  ? " 


MISS  BAMBERS'ES  DRESS.  473 

"  Says  I,  in  a  sort  of  a  blind  way,  "  I  think  of  a 
great  many  things  that  it  wouldn't  do  to  tell  of." 

"  Yes,"  says  he,  "  you  probable  pity  me,  and  realize 
the  situation  I  am  placed  in,  more  than  you  feel  free 
to  tell.  You  probable  think  that  sympathy  would 
break  me  down — make  me  feel  worse." 

"  Yes,"  says  I  firmly,  "I  don't  feel  free  to. tell  my 
opinion  of  you.  It  would  be  apt  to  make  you  fee' 
worse." 

"  You  are  a  woman  of  principle,  Josiah  Allen's  wife, 
and  a  woman  of  strong  sense.  You  realize  my  sit- 
uation— you  feel  for  the  condition  of  my  heart." 

"  Yes,  and  your  head  too,"  says  I ;  "  I  realize  jist 
what  has  ailed  you,  ever  sense  you  was  born.  But," 
says  I,  wantin'  to  turn  the  subject,  for  I  was  sick  of  it, 
sick  as  a  dog.  Says  I  "  you  wuzn't  to  meetin'  last 
night  wuz  you  ? "  Says  I,  "  We  wimmen  talked  it 
over  after  the  meetin',  and  we  are  goin  to  take  up  a 
collection  to  make  Miss  Bamber  a  present  of  a  new 
black  dress.  We  are  goin'  to  ask  each  church-mem- 
ber to  give  jest  one  sixpence,  and  one  sixpence  apiece 
from  the  250  members  will  get  her  a  good  bumbazeen 
dress,  or  a  very  nice  alpacka.  And  so,"  says  I,  "  I 
thought  I  would  ask  you  for  your  sixpence." 

Knowin'  it  is  Kellup's  duty  to  be  tackled  for  the 
good  of  the  meetin-house,  I  will,  no  matter  whether 
he  will  give  anything  or  not,  I  will  insist  on  tacklin' 
him. 

Says  I,  "You   know  Miss   Bamber   has   lost   her 


474  THAT  ATTICA  MAN. 

mother-in-law  and  wants  to  mourn  for  her — wants  to 
the  worst  kind,  and  can't." 

"  Why  can't  she  mourn  ?  "  says  Kellup. 

"Why,"  says  I,  "She  can't  mourn,  because  she 
haint  got  no  dress  suitable  to  mourn  in,  thats  why 
Miss  Bamber  feels  like  death  about  it.  She  knows  it 
is  her  duty  to  mourn,  and  she  wants  to,  like  a  dog,  but 
can't." 

Says  Kellup,  lookin  stingy,  awful  unwillin'  to  give 
anything,  "  She  can  mourn  jest  as  bad  in  one  dress  as 
another,  or  without  any." 

"Wall,"  says  I  reasonably,  "So  I  think.  But 
everybody  has  their  little  different  ways  and  excentric- 
ities,  and  it  don't  look  well  for  us  to  meddle  with  'em. 
Now  that  feller  by  the  name  of  Procrustes,  at  Attica 
village.  Now,  I  always  thought  he  went  too  far.  He 
had  a  iron  bedstead,  and  he  used  to  make  everybody 
that  traveled  his  way  lay  down  on  it,  and  if  their  legs 
was  too  short,  he  would  stretch  'em  out  to  fit  that  bed- 
stead, and  if  they  was  too  long,  he  would  saw  'em  off." 

Now  Mr.  Procrustes  wuzn't  doin'  exactly  the  fair 
thing.  What  earthly  business  was  it  of  his,  if  other 
folks'es  legs  was  too  long  to  be  convenient,  or  too 
short  ?  It  wuzn't  his  place  to  trim  'em  off,  or  stretch 
'em. 

And  I  always  thought  that  if  I  had  had  business  in 
his  neighborhood,  and  been  travelin'  that  way,  and  he 
had  tried  to  fit  me  or  Josiah  to  that  bedstead,  why,  I 


THE8IU8  GETS  MAD. 


475 


always  thought  he  would  have  seen  trouble.  I  should 
have  gin  him  a  awful  talkin'  to,  and  kicked. 

Mr.  Procrustes  is  dead.  Yes,  I  believe  old  Thesius, 
a  neighber  of  his'en,  killed  him  upon  some  mountain 
or  other.  I  presume  he  got  to  stretchin'  old  The- 
sius'es  legs  out,  or  begun  to  saw  'em  off,  and  got  the 
old  man  mad,  and  he  jest  laid  to  and  killed  him. 

Yes,  I  believe  old  Mr.  Procrustes  hain't  livin'  at  the 
present  time,  but  he  left  a  large,  a  very  large  family. 
And  every  one  of  'em  inherits  the  old  gentleman's 
traits  and  disposition.  I  have  seen  lots  of  'em  that,  if 


TAKIN    A  REEF. 


they  dast,  would  have  every  leg  in  the  world  jest  the 
length  of  their'n.  If  they  dast,  they  would  tackle  you 
in  a  minute  with  a  saw  or  a  broad-axe. 


476  A  DUTY  AND  A  PRIVILEGE. 

"  But  I  never  felt  that  way.  Now,  as  fur  as  my  own 
feelin's  are  concerned,  I  think  memories  can  haunt 
anybody,  and  hearts  can  ache  jest  as  severe  under  a 
white  dress  as  a  black  one,  and  visey  versey.  Hearts 
can  beat  gay  and  triumphant  aginst  bumbuzeen  bodist 
waists  and  crape  trimmin's.  But  Miss  Bamber  feels 
different.  She  feels  that  she  can't  mourn  without  cer- 
tain conveniences.  And  feelin'  in  that  way,  and 
feelin'  that  it  would  be  a  duty  and  a  privilege  for  her 
to  mourn  for  her  mother-in-law,  I  say  that  woman 
shall  have  the  wherewith  to  do  it  with.  I  say  she 
shall  mourn  if  she  wants  to ;  she  shall  be  helped  to  a 
1)1  ack  dress.  There  hain't  a  member  of  the  meetin'- 
house  but  what  can  give  a  six-pence  without  feelin'  it. 
We  want  to  keep  it  all  still  from  Miss  Bamber,  and 
get  it,  and  get  it  all  made  for  her  before  she  knows  a 
thing  about  it.  And,"  says  I,  "mebby  you  had  better 
give  me  the  six-pence  to-day,  as  we  have  got  it  about 
all  collected,  and  want  to  get  the  dress  right  away." 

Says  he,  "  Hain't  there  nobody  else  whose  duty  it  is 
to  get  the  dress  ?  Her  relations  ?  I  should  think  it 
was  their  duty  to  help." 

Never  did  I  ask  a  stingy  human  creeter  for  help  for 
the  poor,  or  help  for  the  meetin'-house,  but  what  this 
argument  was  dragged  up  by  'em.  Tryin'  to  shirk  off 
their  own  duty  onto  somebody  else. 

"  No,"  says  I,  "  her  family  is  all  dead.  She  hain't 
got  but  one  relation  in  the  world,  and  that  is  an  aunt 


TOWN  BUSINESS.  477 


of  her  grandmother's;  and  she  is  supported  by  the 
town." 

"  Wall,"  says  he,  cheerfully, "  mebby  the  town  would 
feel  like  gettin'  this  dress." 

I  jest  give  him  a  look,  and  never  said  another  word, 
— only  jest  that  look.  But  I  s'pose  that  look  spoke 
louder  and  awfuler  than  words,  for  he  hastened  to  say, 
in  a  apologizin'  way : 

"  I  didn't  know  but  the  town  would  want  to — would 
feel  it  a  privilege  to — " 

I  still  didn't  say  nothin',  only  jest  that  awful  look. 
And  agin  he  says,  in  a  apologizin'  way : 

"  I  would  advance  the  six-pence  to  you,  I  would  try 
to  raise  it  some  way  for  you,  but  the  hard  times  we 
have  had,  and  are  havin',  have  depressed  all  sorts  of 
business  so,  we  have  suffered  terribly  financially  as 
well  as  the  other  public.  We  have  got  a  great  deal  of 
money  to  make  out  this  fall — over  10  dollars.  Father 
hain't  a  bit  well ;  my  health  hain't  what  it  once  was ; 
our  expenses  are  enormious — taxes,  household  ex- 
penses, clothin' ;  and  takin'  all  these  things  into  con- 
sideration, together  with  the  public  debt,  the  with- 
drawal of  funds  by  foreign  capitalists,  the  almost  total 
stagnation  of  public  enterprize,  the  total  lack  of  public 
confidence,  the  total — " 

Says  I,  "Put  in  total  selfishness  and  total  meanness, 
and  keep  your  six-pence." 

I  don't  beKeve  1  have  been  more  wore  out  in  over 

seven  months, — and  mad. 
18 


478  A  HARD  TASK. 


"  Wall,"  says  he,  lookin'  relieved,  "  if  you  will 
excuse  me,  I  won't  make  no  move  towards  raisin'  the 
money  for  you.  It  would  probable  cramp  me  consid- 
erable to  raise  the  sum  jest  at  this  present  time." 

And  then  he  begun  about  Kitty  agin.  Says  he, 
knittin'  up  his  eyebrow  hard,  and  lookin'  gloomy: 

"  I  never  calculated  to  fall  in  love  with  a  poor  girl. 
It  never  used  to  pass  my  mind  that  1  ever  should 
select  such  a  one  out  of  the  hundreds  that  stand  round 
me,  hankerin'  to  marry  me.  But  I  have  done  it.  Why, 
sometimes  I  think  I  couldn't  love  that  girl  any  more 
if  she  was  worth  two  hundred  and  50  dollars.  I  think 
so  much  of  her  that  it  is  as  hard  for  me  as  loosin'  a 
limb,  almost  like  loosin'  my  pocket-book,  to  think  of 
her  bein'  way  off  there  a  pinin'  for  me,  and  bein'  on  a 
perfect  rack,  not  knowin'  whether  she  will  get  me  or 
not. 

"  When  I  think  of  that  side  of  the  question,  Josiah 
Allen's  wife,  I  feel  jest  like  leavin'  word  here  with  you 
for  her,  that  I  will  marry  her,  whether  or  no.  But 
then,  jest  like  a  blow  aginst  the  side  of  my  head,  comes 
the  thought  of  them  other  wimmen,  that  had  hopes 
before  she  come  to  Jonesville  that  they  would  get  me. 
I  believe,  anyway,  it  will  be  safe  to  leave  word  here  for 
her  to  keep  up  good  courage,  and  try  not  to  get  too 
cast  down  and  melancholy ;  to  hope  for  the  best ;  and 
I'll  do  everything  I  can.  I'll  enquire  round  about  the 
wimmen,  see  the  doctor,  and  try  to  arrange  things  for 
her  good  and  happiness ;  try  to  get  round  and  marry 


A  NEW  FLAME.  479 


her.  At  the  same  time,"  says  he,  with  a  cautious 
look,  "  I  would  feel  it  my  duty  to  warn  her  to  not  get 
so  bound  up  in  me  that  the  disappointment  would  kill 
her,  if  she  should  lose  me." 

"  Wall,"  says  I,  bein'  wore  almost  completely  out, 
"  I  must  go  and  skim  the  milk  for  the  calves." 

And  he  took  the  hint  and  started  off,  and  glad 
enough  was  I  to  see  him  go.  But  jest  as  he  went 
down  the  steps,  and  I  turned  to  go  into  the  buttery,  I 
see  a  paper  of  indigo  that  Marier  Burpey  had  left  here 
that  very  day.  She  had  forgot  it,  and  I  knew  she  was 
in  a  hurry  a  colorin' ;  so  I  jest  carried  it  to  the  door, 
and  asked  Kellup  if  he  would  carry  it  to  her,  knowin' 
he  had  to  go  right  by  her  door. 

"No,"  says  he,  firmly,  "  I  dassent  do  it."  And  he 
looked  anxious  and  skairt  as  he  said  it.  "  I'd  be  glad 
to,  but  I  dassent,"  says  he.  "I  have  to  make  my 
demeanor  perfectly  stunny  towards  that  girl,  in  order 
to  keep  her  affection  anywhere  within  bounds.  She 
don't  show  it  any  by  her  looks  or  actions — she  has  got 
almost  marble  self-control ;  but  I  see  right  through  it. 
I  see  that  she  almost  worships  me.  I  see  that  I  am 
makin'  her  perfectly  unhappy ;  and  when  I  think  of 
Sofier's  fate,  I  tremble  for  Marier.  I  am  careful ;  I  am 
a  careful  feller ;  I  am  on  my  guard.  And  at  the  pres- 
ent time,  situated  as  I  be  in  regard  to  Kitty,  I  feel  that 
I  ort  to  be  doubly  careful.  But  at  any  and  every  time 
a  young  man  like  me  can't  be  too  careful  when  they 
arc  round  amongst  wimmen." 


480 


WADIN'  IN  GOAR. 


"  Nobody  wouldn't  mistrust  you  was  makin'  such 
havock,"  says  T,  mechanically,  for  I  really  didn't  know 
what  to  say. 


MARIER   BXJRPEY. 


"  Yes,  if  a  young  man  like  me  is  unprincipled  enough 
to  go  headlong  into  wimmen's  company  without  lookin' 
where  he  is  goin',  without  actin'  offish  and  cold  to  'em, 
why,  before  that  man  knows  it,  he  is  a  wadin'  through 
goar.  Bleedin'  hearts  lay  round  him  on  every  side  a 


INDIGO  UNSAFE.  481 

bleedin'.  Why  don't  other  young  men  think  of  these 
things  ?  Why  hain't  they  more  careful,  more  offish  ? " 

Says  I,  with  feelin',  "  That's  so,  why  hain't  they  ? 
The  offisher  some  men  be,  the  more  I  think  on  'em." 
And  I  looked  longin'ly  at  the  path  down  to  the  gate, 
and  the  road  to  Jonesville. 

"  Yes,  you  know  what  actin'  on  principle  means. 
That  is  why  I  respect  you,  confide  in  you." 

"  Then  you  don't  think  you  can  carry  the  indigo  ?  " 
says  I,  turnin'  to  go  in. 

"  No,"  says  he,  firm  as  marble,  and  as  sot  as  that 
stun.  "  I'd  love  to  accommodate  you,  but  I  dassent. 
When  I  think  of  the  fate  of  Softer,  when  I  think  of  the 
deadly  blows  my  conscience  dealt  to  me  every  minute, 
as  I  drove  her  hearse  to  the  buryin'-ground — then  I 
feel  as  if  I  had  almost  ruther  lose  ten  cents  than  go 
through  it  agin  with  Marier.  I  feel  that  I  must  not  be 
resky,  and  do  anything  to  ensnare  her  affections." 

"  Good  land ! "  says  I,  "  indigo  won't  be  likely  to 
ensnare  'em,  will  it  ?  " 

"Other  men  might  handle  it  safe,  men  witli  less 
attractions  than  I  have  got,  but  I  can't,  I  dassent." 

And  I  wouldn't  demean  myself  by  urgin'  him  an- 
other word.  And  I  went  into  the  house,  and  he 
started  off. 

Wall,  as  I  was  a  sayin',  Kitty  had  been  gone  two 
weeks,  the  day  Nathan  and  Cassandra  visited  me,  and 
this  letter  from  her,  brought  in  to  me  while  I  was 
a  gettin'  the  dinner  onto  the  table,  brought  news  that 


482  HAPPY  DAY. 


was  startlin'  and  agitatin'  in  the  extreme.  I  was  jest 
a  stirrin'  some  sweet  cream  and  butter  together  over 
the  stove,  havin'  a  fresh  salmon  trout  for  dinner,  and 
Josiah  bein'  fond  of  that  kind  of  gravy  to  eat  with  it, 
and  Nathan  bein'  such  a  clever  creeter,  offered  to  stir 
it  for  me,  while  I  read  the  letter.  And  I  was  so 
anxious  to  git  the  news,  that  I  let  him  do  it,  though, 
the  stove  bein'  so  hot,  take  it  with  that  and  his 
burnin'  blushes,  it  made  a  pretty  hot  time  for  him. 

But  the  news  was  this :  Kitty  was  married.  But  the 
curiousest  and  most  agitatin'  part  of  the  news  was,  the 
old  gentleman,  Mark's  father,  had  got  after  Kitty's 
mother.  He  went  to  give  her  a  scoldin',  and  fell  in 
love  with  her  on  the  spot.  Like  Hamen,  he  got  hung 
on  his  own  gallowses — went  to  smite  her,  and  got  smit 
himself,  awful.  So  he  courted  her  up  violent  and 
powerful,  and  they  all  got  married  the  same  day. 

It  was  very  pleasant  and  agreeable  news  to  me,  and 
to  Josiah.  And  Cassandra  and  Nathan  acted  well 
about  it.  They  said  they  was  glad  it  all  turned  out  so 
well,  but  their  minds  didn't  seem  to  be  on  the  news  so 
much  as  they  was  on  their  babe.  And  it  is  a  very 
good-lookin'  child,  and  appears  middlin'  well  for  a 
child  of  its  age.  Takes  after  its  father  some — sort  o' 
sandy,  with  red  hair.  It  don't  look  much,  as  little 
Samantha  Jo  did,  nor  it  don't  have  that  noble,  beautiful 
appearance  she  had  at  that  age.  But  then  you  can't 
expect  that  any  other  child  is  ever  goin'  to  look  and 
act  like  her.  I  do  despise  people  bein'  so  bound  up  in 


A  MYSTERIOUS  DECREE.  483 

their  own  childern  and  grandchildern  that  they  can't 
see  no  good  qualities  in  any  other  childern.  Thank 
fortune  that  hain't  my  way,  nor  never  was.  And  I 
say,  and  I  always  shall  say,  that  Cassandra's  babe 
hain't  a  babe  to  be  ashamed  of,  and  feel  above,  not  by 
any  means. 

Bern'  so  awful  bashful,  Nathan  don't  probable  asso- 
ciate with  it  so  much,  and  act  on  such  intimate  terms 
with  it  as  he  would  if  it  wuzn't  for  that.  But  in  a 
mild,  sheepish  way,  he  seems  to  think  the  world  of  it, 
and  seems  to  want  to  do  everything  he  can  to  make  it 
feel  to  home  with  'em,  and  happy.  But  he  don't  come 
out  openly  and  express  his  admiration  and  affection,  as 
he  would  if  it  wuzn't  for  that  drawback. 

Now,  he  dassent  hold  it  much,  or  that  is,  he  don't 
seem  to  dast.  But  Cassandra  bein'  proud-spirited,  and 
wantin'  Nathan  to  show  off  some,  would  once  in  a 
while  put  the  babe  in  his  lap. 

He  never  would  make  any  move  to  stop  her.  He 
never  would  refuse  to  take  it.  He  would  set  and  hold 
it  jest  as  long  as  she  felt  disposed  to  leave  it  there. 
But  he  would  look  down  on  it  in  a  skairt,  wonderin', 
breathless  way,  as  if  the  child  got  there  in  his  lap 
through  some  mysterious  and  inscrutable  decree  of 
Providence,  and  it  wuzn't  for  him  to  resist.  But  he 
suffered  intensely  at  such  times,  I  could  see. 

And  every  little  while  Cassandra  (bein'  determined 
to  make  Nathan  show  off)  would  tell  him  to  say  sun- 
thin'  to  the  babe,  talk  baby-talk  to  it.  And  he  would 


484 


NATHAN  AND  HIS  BABY. 


always  try  to.    He  would  always  do  jest  as  Cassandra 
told  him  to  (a  cleverer  critter  never  walked).     His 


"DO  YOU   WANT  A  PAIR  OF  BOOTS?" 

face  would  be  as  red  as  a  red  handkerchief,  but  he 
would  ask  the  babe,  up  in  a  little,  high,  fine  voice : 

"Do  you  want  a  pair  of  boots  ?  " 

He  never  made  any  other  remark  to  the  child  that 
I  heard,  only  jest  that.  I  heard  him  say  that  to  it 


TH KILLING-   NEWS. 


ALL  HE  COULD  SAY.  487 

more'n  20  times,  I  dare  persume  to  say.  For  Cas- 
sandra, bein'  so  anxious  to  have  him  show  off,  kep' 
tellin'  him  to  talk  to  it.  And  it  seemed  as  if  that 
remark  was  all  he  could  think  of  that  would  be  agree- 
able to  the  child.  But  Josiah  said,  as  we  was  talkin' 
it  over  afterwards,  that  he  heard  him  say  two  or  three 
times  to  it: 

"  Yes,  it  shall  have  a  pair  of  boots." 

But  it  must  have  been  when  I  was  out  a  gettin'  din- 
ner. For  if  I  was  under  oath  I  would  say  that  I  didn't 
hear  him  say  a  single  thing  to  it,  only  jest  this : 

"  Do  you  want  a  pair  of  boots  ?  " 

They  started  for  home  jest  after  dinner,  Nathan 
havin'  left  some  work  that  must  be  done.  And  Josiah 
hitched  up  and  went  to  Jonesville  to  mill.  And  I 
s'pose  he  told  the  news  about  Kitty  there.  But  it 
wuzn't  till  the  next  afternoon  that  I  heard  what  the 
effects  of  that  news  wuz  in  a  certain  place  and  to  a 
certain  feller. 

And  though  it  hain't  always  best  to  mention  names, 
and  come  right  out  plain  and  talk,  yet  it  probable 
won't  do  no  hurt  to  mention  that  you  might  expect 
Kellup  Cobb,  under  any  circumstances,  would  act  like 
a  fool. 

I  was  down  to  the  creek  lot,  pickin'  a  few  berries 
for  supper,  when  Josiah  told  me  on't.  It  had  got  a 
little  later  than  I  thought  for,  and  Josiah  had  come 
down  after  me,  bein'  worried  about  me.  It  was  only 
a  little  ways  from  the  house.  I  had  put  the  tea-kettle 


488  KELLUP  DISAPPEARS. 

on,  and  sot  the  table,  before  I  had  come  out,  and  the 
tea-kettle  was  a  bilin',  so  Josiah  said,  after  he  told  me 
the  news.  The  news  was  thrillin'  and  agitatin'  in  the 
extreme.  He  said  Kellup  Cobb  had  disappeared  the 
night  before,  after  the  news  of  Kitty's  marriage  had 
got  abroad  in  Jonesville.  They  said  that  he  felt  so 
that  he  disappeared,  he  and  the  hearse  and  Elder 
Judas  Wart — the  hull  three  on  'em.  Kellup  had  been 
on  intimate  terms  with  Judas  Wart  for  some  time  ;  and 
some  think  that  Kellup  bein'  so  cut  down  by  Kitty's 
marriage,  and  the  Elder  bein'  so  cut  down  by  my  with- 
erin'  eloquence  and  Josiah's  broom-handle,  that  they 
both  got  into  the  hearse,  and  drove  off  in  it  to  Utah  to 
jine  the  Mormons.  And  some  think  that  they  sold  the 
hearse,  and  took  the  money,  and  went  to  Salt  Lake  by 
rail.  Which  last  way,  I  told  my  Josiah,  when  he  men- 
tioned it,  was  the  proper  way  to  go  there,  if  it  wuz  the 
right  kind  of  a  rail.  But  anyway,  they  had  gone,  the 
hull  three  on  'em,  and  there  hain't  been  a  word  heard 
from  'em  sense  in  Jonesville. 

Josiah  said  old  Cobb  felt  awfully. 

Says  I,  "  To  lose  Kellup  ?  " 

"  No,"  says  he,  "to  lose  the  hearse." 

But  I  jest  repeated  this  line  of  poetry  to  my  pardner. 
Says  I : 

"Poetry,  Josiah,  will  somehow  express  the  feelin's 
of  the  soul  better  than  you  can  express  them  yourself." 
And  says  I,  "Josiah,  as  for  Elder  Judas  Wart  and 


REFLECTIONS.  489 


Kellup,  I  say  with  the  poet,  good  riddance  to  bad  rub- 
bidge." 

"  Wall,"  says  Josiah,  with  a  sort  of  a  dreamy  look, 
— that  man  loves  poetry,  though  he  seldom  quotes  it — 
"don't  you  s'pose,  Samantha,  that  you  have  got  about 
enough  berries  for  supper,  for  I  am  gettin'  hungry  as 
a  bear." 

"  Yes,"  says  I,  "  because  I  have  got  stewed  peaches 
and  cold  chicken  and  everything  else  good  for  supper 
besides  them.  But,"  says  I,  lookin'  sort  o'  longin'ly 
at  some  berries  that  was  a  hangin'  over  the  water, 
"  there  is  a  few  extra  big  and  ripe  ones  that  do  look 
too  good  to  leave." 

"  Wall,"  says  he,  sweetly  (for  his  mean  sense  I  told 
him  what  we  was  goin'  to  have  for  supper  had  looked 
perfectly  beautiful),  "  you  set  down  and  rest,  Samantha, 
and  I  will  pick  'em  for  you." 

And  so  he  took  my  little  tin  pail,  and  with  a  happy 
frame  bent  down  to  pick  'em.  And  I,  bein'  tired,  sot 
down,  and  looked  into  the  water.  And  I  see  that 
everything  was  reflected  in  it.  The  trees,  the  nodding 
red  sumac  feathers,  my  Josiah  and  me,  gay  golden-rod 
and  wild  blue  china-oysters,  the  berry  bushes,  the 
thorny  stalks  and  the  ripe  fruit,  fresh  posys,  and  with- 
ered leaves ;  all  imaged  there  in  the  water ;  and  the 
water  was  a  runnin'  swift. 

And  out  on  the  end  of  a  slender  bush  that  hung  over 
the  water,  a  bird  swayed  and  swung  to  and  fro,  and 

sung  out  a  dretful  sort  of  a  sweet  song,  yet  sad  like. 
18* 


490  COMFORTIN'  THOUGHTS. 

Some  as  if  it  was  practicin'  over  a  farewell  song  to  its 
home,  its  happy  nest,  before  it  sailed  away  south  in 
search  of  a  balmier  climate. 

So  the  bird  sailed  back  and  forth  on  that  slender 
twig,  over  the  deep  waters,  a  singin'  about  a  happier 
country,  sweet  and  sad,  sweet  and  low.  And  my  pard- 
ner  picked  the  ripe  berries,  and  I  sot  there  peaceful 
and  serene  (though  some  sweaty),  a  thinkin'  how,  over 
all  that  was  pictured  on  the  changing  face  of  the 
waters,  the  changeless  blue  heavens  was  reflected, 
shining  down  over  all,  the  old  and  the  new,  the  mourn- 
ful and  the  sorrowful ;  over  all,  and  beneath  all.  That 
thought  was  perfectly  beautiful  to  me,  and  dretful 
comfortin'.  And  I  sot  there  a  thinkin'  of  that,  and  a 
thinkin'  how  swift  the  water  was  a  ruimin'  towards 
the  sea. 


THE   END. 


HAVE  YOU  READ 

MY    OPINIONS 

AND 

BETSEY  BOBBETS 

By  JOSIAH  ALLEN'S  WIFE  2 

AUTHOR  OF 
•SAMANTHA  AT  THE  CENTENNIAL,"  AND  "MY  WAYWARD  PARDNER." 

IF    NOT    GET    IT    THE    FIRST    OPPORTUNITY. 

This  book  is  one  of  those  indescribable  ones,  of  which  little  can  be 
said  except  that  it  is  rich  and  spicy  throughout,  readable  and  fascina- 
ting, brimfull  of  humor  and  sharp  things — y  et  not  a  line  in  it,  that  does 
not  point  a  moral,  and  teach  a  lesson.  It  will  create  a  sensation  when- 
ever read,  and  no  one  will  enjoy  it  better  than  the  ladies,  although  it 
deals  with  them  in  a  plain  way.  The  men  will  like  it,  the  children 
will  like  it,  all  will  like  and  laugh  over  it,  and  remember  its  teachings 
long  afterwards. 

The  Public  will  make  no  mistake  in  purchasing  this  book,  as  it 
is  full  of  good  things,  which  will  at  once  arrest  and  rivet  the  atten- 
tion of  the  reader. 

.  Never  was  a  character's  lines  drawn  more  distinctly  than  that  of 
Josiah's  wife,  and  her  originals  will  be  found  among  the  acquaint- 
ances of  many.  Cute,  wise,  shrewd  and  observing,  with  a  vein  of 
strong  common  sense,  yet  simple  and  innocent  as  a  child,  she  will 
keep  the  reader  crammed  with  sharp  hits  and  funny  observations. 

Betsey  Bobbet's  opinions  act  upon  Josiah's  wife's,  as  settings 
do  upon  diamonds :  adding  to  their  brightness  and  resplendency 

The  book  contains  432  Pages,  and  is  filled  with  Pictures,  put 
in,  as  the  author  says,  to  explain  tlie  text. 

Price  in  Fine  English  Morocco  Cloth,  -          -      $2.5O 

"      "  "  "  "        GiU  Edges,          3.OO 

"      "    Half  Turkey  Morocco,  «  4.OO 

The  book  can  be  had  by  addressing 

AMERICAN  PUBLISHING-  CO., 
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JOSIAH    ALLEN'S    WIFE'S 


AS    A 


JOSIAH'S    FIVE   HOURS'   BIDE. 


Samantha    at   the    Centennial 

BY  THE  AUTHOR  OF 

"MY  OPINIONS  AND  BETSEY  BOBBET'S,"  AND   "MY  WAYWARD  PARDNER," 


This  book  the  writer  sends  forth  to  the  world,  expecting  it 
will  (as  did  other  martyrs :  John  Rogers  and  etcetery)  tread 
on  the  hot  coals  of  public  opinion  ;  be  briled  on  the  gridiron 
old  bigotry  keeps  to  brile  her  enemies  on ;  be  scalded  by  the 
melted  lead  of  old  custom ;  and  be  burnt  up  on  the  stake  of 
opposition ;  yet  still,  upheld  "by  firm  principle  and  lofty  emo- 
tions, she  is  able  to  say :  "  I  am  happy  in  the  thought." 
./  kind  and  noble  ^It-list  has  risked  his  fame  by 
draining  a  fete  pictures  for  the  book. 

THIS  YOLTTME  CONTAINS  580  PAGES, 
25  Full-Page  and  5O  other  Engravings 

Prices:  In  Fine  English  Cloth,  $2.50  ;  do.do.,  Gilt  Edge,  $3.00; 

Half  Turkey  Morocco,  $4.00. 
The  book  can  be  had  by  addressing 

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AT 
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